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THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 


A    TALE    OP 


Bml  miir  §m\t$k  fife  m  Statbm. 


BT 


FKEDRIKA    BKEMEE. 

AUTHOROP  • 

'THE  NKIQHBOUES,"  "NINA,"  "THE  PEESIDENT'S  DAUGHTERS,"  "THE  H FAMILY,' 

"THB  HOME,"   "HOMES  IN  THE   NEW  WORLD,"  ETC.,  ETC. 


TRANSLATED   BT 


MARY    HOWITT. 


^ut^ori^eb  ^mmcan  SbHimi,  ioxt^  i\t  gi»t|jor'5  ^^bitatioir. 


J)  I)  i  I  a  iJ  £  I  p  I)  t  a  : 

T.    B.    PETERSON    AND   BROTHERS, 
306    CHESTNUT    STREET. 


DEDICATION  FOE  THE  MEEICAN  EDITION. 


A.    J.     DOWNING, 

THIS  BOOK  IS  DEDICATED  IN  LOVE  AND  GRATEFUL  REMEM- 
BRANCE  BY  THE  AUTHOR. 


"The  women  must  regenerate  ns  socially,"  was  a  favor- 
ite saying  of  yours,  my  friend,  a  saying  precious  to  me  as 
coming  from  a  spirit  so  just,  so  observing,  and  discrimi- 
nating as  your's ;  and  as  it  seemed  to  me  to  express  a  feel- 
ing inherent,  though,  only  half  conscious,  in  the  people  of 
your  country — the  great  New  World,  the  land  of  promise 
and  of  hope  to  millions  of  hearts  in  Europe. 

It  also  corresponded  deeply  to  the  faith  of  my  own  heart. 
But  if  woman  shall  be  able  to  accomplish  the  great  work 
which  we  believe  intrusted  to  her  by  the  great  Author  of 
life,  our  laws  and  customs,  institutions  and  education, 
must  not  counteract  the  normal  development  of  her 
noblest  faculties,  of  her  will  and  aspirations ;  they  must 
rather  be  to  her  the  very  soil  and  sun  in  which  the  tree 
of  her  life  can  grow,  and  develop  its  branches,  and  bear 
its  fruits,  in  full  correspondence  to  its   inward  essence. 

(xix) 


XX  DEDICATION. 

You  will  certainly  assent  to  this,  my^  friend,  you,  whose 
skillful  hand  loved  to  raise  plants  of  every  kind  so  as  to 
propitiate  their  full  growth  and  God-given  beauty  or  grace. 
But  is  it  so  with  regard  to  human  institutions,  for  the 
growth  of  woman's  mind,  and  the  full  development  of  her 
God-given  gifts  ? 

You  know,  my  friend,  that  it  is  not  so ;  you  observed  it 
already  on  earth,  and  must  know  it  better  still  in  that 
blessed  society  where  men  and  women  commune  as  angels 
before  the  face  of  God.  Even  in  your  native  land,  which 
a  friend  and  countryman  of  mine  calls,  "The  promised 
land  of  woman,  and  of  the  child,"  and  where  the  women 
are  indulged  and  left  fancy-free  certainly  more  than  in  any 
other  country  on  earth,  it  is  not  so.  There,  even  there, 
indulgence  has  not  yet  become  justice,  and  the  love  for 
women  not  reverence  to  her  mission,  so  as  to  command  a 
training  for  her  mind,  and  opportunities  for  its  develop- 
ment corresponding  to  that  mission — training  and  oppor- 
tunities which  alone  can  make  her  acquire  her  full  worth. 
JSTor  has  she  yet  been  propitiated  so  far  in  any  country  on 
earth,  though  superior  natures  have,  in  almost  all  coun- 
tries, shown  the  worth  and  influence  she  is  capable  of. 

Of  her  situation  in  my  own  land,  with  reference  to  our 
laws  and  social  customs,  I  have  dra^^ni  a  picture  in  the 
work  under  the  name  of  "  The  Four  Sisters,"  and  which  I 
dedicate  to  you;  then  by  men  such  as  you,  and  to  you 
congenial,  I  should  wish  my  work  to  be  judged.  Its  bitter 
parts  must  be  excused  on  the  score  of   bitter  pain,  not 


DEDICATION.  XXI 

of  a  selfish  kind.  Tlie  patriarclial  bonds  which  keep 
back  the  growth  of  woman's  mind  and  social  life  in 
Sweden,  and  which  sometimes  amounts  to  the  most  crush- 
ing tyranny,  I  have  shadowed  forth  in  these  pages,  often 
with  a  heavy  heart. 

But  I  have  done  it  for  love  for  the  moral  growth  and 
worth  of  my  people,  in  strong  faith  and  hope  that  when  its 
noble  spirit  came  to  look  facts  in  the  face,  and  know  the 
suffering  and  debasement,  or  the  bitterness  of  spirit  arising 
from  this  state  of  things,  it  will  rise  and  carry  out  in  the 
liberation  of  woman,  the  noble  motto  of  our  present  King, 
"  Truth  and  J'ust.'icey 

My  people  was  the  first  among  the  Scandinavian  nations 
to  liberate  its  slaves,  when  the  blessed  voice  of  the  Ee- 
deemer  was  heard  in  the  North,  proclaiming  the  brother- 
hood of  all  men  and  the  freedom  in  the  father  God.  Cer- 
tainly it  cannot  long  be  one  of  the  last  to  liberate  the  lov- 
ing companion  of  man,  woman  ^  from  a  state  of  tutelage  and 
bondage,  which  other  Christian  countries  have  already 
shaken  off  for  her.  More  than  this  liberation,  I  do  not  at 
present  hope  for.  But  when  the  day  will  come,  when  the 
sons  of  the  earth  will  better  know  their  true  welfare,  they 
will  give  much  more  still  to  her  who  is  to  be  the  Mother 
and  first  teacher :  in  fact,  the  inspiring  Egeria  of  the  future 
generations,  the  coming  Man  !  From  your  heavenly  horae, 
my  friend,  methinks  I  see  you  smiling  down,  "Amen." 

Since  we  parted  on  American  shores,  the  homes  of  my 
country  have  drawn  nearer  to  those  of  your  land  in  sym- 


XXii  DEDICATION. 

pathy  and  love  for  their  noble  hearts,  their  beautiful  life ; 
and  I  am  happy  to  know  that  I  have  some  part  in  this, 
though  only  as  the  well  who  gives  back  the  images  of  the 
flowers  and  stars  looking  down  in  her  mirror. 

Your  noblest  poets  and  prose-writers  have  begun  to  be 
translated  in  my  native  tongue.  "Uncle  Tom's  Cabin," 
has  been  read  passionately  by  rich  and  poor,  in  the 
palaces  and  cabins  of  my  land ;  Longfellow's  poems  are 
translated  by  a  graceful  Swedish  muse ;  and  Washington 
Irving's  "  Wolfert's  Roost,"  is  now  read  in  our  daily  papers 
throughout  the  land,  with  that  peculiar  pleasure  and  charm 
awakened  by  this  delightful  writer,  ever  young,  ever  pure, 
writing  as  no  other,  romantic  interest  with  classical  purity 
and  elegance,  beloved  by  all  classes,  read  in  all  lands. 

Even  your  books,  my  friend,  are  spreading  in  my 
country,  and  are,  this  moment,  helping  my  brother-in-law 
to  build  a  house  and  plant  a  garden  for  his  summer  resi- 
dence. 

At  my  parting  with  you,  I  promised  to  give  the  right 
of  publication  in  America  of  a  work  of  mine  to  a  friend 
of  yours,  whose  generous  spirit  even  I  had  learned  to 
know  and  to  appreciate.  In  now  giving  my  "  Four 
Sisters"  in  the  hands  of  the  Publisher,  I  am  conscious  that 
I  intrust  to  him  the  work,  which,  of  all  my  writings,  has 
the  deepest  root  in  my  own  life  and  consciousness — a  work 
which  sacred  duty  commanded  me  to  write.  And  I  am 
happy  to  fulfill  my  engagement  to  him,  and  a  wish  of 
yours.  Fkedeika  Bremer. 


THE  FOUR  SISTERS. 


AN  EVENING  PAETY. 

"  Nowhere,"  says  the  proverb,  "  do  things  happen  more 
oddly  than  in  this  world."  And  nowhere  in  the  world  did 
things  happen  more  oddly  than  on  a  certain  evening  in  our 
good  town  of  Kungskoping ;  for  there  was  a  great  party 
there,  and  people  were  heard  talking  in  this  style  : 

"  Now,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  we  must  set  to  and  arrange 
everything !  Every  group  in  order !  Camellias,  mignonettes, 
and  roses,  you  all  stand  in  that  corner  :  good  fairies  and  hob- 
goblins in  the  opposite  one.  Gods  and  goddesses,  stand  for- 
ward— Olympus  to  the  right,  Valhalla  to  the  left  ! — Jupiter, 
Colonel  Jupiter,  where  is  he  ? — 'Pon  my  honor,  standing  and 
shaking  hands  with  Odin.  Colonel  Jupiter,  do  you  hear  ? 
What  have  you  to  do  with  Valhalla  ?  You  belong  to  the 
Olympian  division.  Mrs.  Frigga,  be  so  good  as  to  take 
charge  of  Odin  and  his  people.  We  must  keep  order  in  the 
world." 

"  Yes,  certainly :  only  don't  forget  that  Odin  must  dance 
with  Juno,  and  I  with  Jupiter." 

"  Of  course,  in  the  grand  Polonaise.  But  now  every  one 
must  go  to  his  own  j^ost.  Colonel  Jupiter,  be  so  good  and 
stand  here  beside  your  worthy  offspring.  Mars  and  Vvdcan, 
Apollo  and  Bacchus  !  General  Odin,  march  forward  ! — if  I 
may    be    so    bold.      Lieutenant    Thor — superb !      Assessor 

(23) 


24  THE  rorR  sisters. 

Balder;  very  good!  Miss  Idvma,  be  so  obliging! — ^Iron- 
master Brage — ^where  the  deuce  is  he  gone  to  ?  Ha !  ha ! 
he  stands  bowing  to  the  graces  of  Olympus.  Do  you  hear, 
my  good  su-,  leave  all  that  till  the  great  polska.  Your  place, 
for  the  present,  is  in  Valhalla,  and  on  tliis  side.  The  ParciB 
here ;  the  Nomor  there ;  that  is  as  it  should  be.  Good 
fairies  and  goblins,  let  me  see  you  in  your  own  region  !  No 
deserters  now.  It  is  enough  to  tm-n  one's  head.  Apropos 
of  head,  where  have  we  a  Mimer's  head  ?  Where  can  we  get 
a  Mimer  ?» 

"  Professor  Methodius !" 

"  Our  one-eyed  uncle  !     Splendid.     But  where  is  he  ?" 

"  There  !  standuig  with  his  forefinger  to  his  nose,  demon- 
strating his  system  to  the  Countess  P.  He  is,  no  doubt,  at 
this  very  moment  amid  the  creation  of  the  world.  I  can  see 
it  in  his  face." 

And  that  was  true  enough.  The  Professor,  called  Metho- 
dius, was  really  standing  before  the  Countess  P.,  and  replying 
to  her  somewhat  mischievous  inquiry  of  "how  the  system 
was  going  on  ?" 

"  Thank  you  for  the  inquiry ;  oh  yes,  it  rocks  to  and  fro 
like  the  seaman  aground  in  his  vessel."  And  the  Professor 
laughed  heartily  at  his  oa,vti  conceit.  "  The  fact  is,  that  as 
yet  I  cannot  get  it  rightly  in  order,  cannot  set  it  to  work,  as 
they  say.  Nevertheless  I  have  got  part  way.  And  if  one 
is  only  sure  of  the  foundation,  one  may  feel  quite  safe  in 
building  up  the  house  and  putting  the  roof  on.  In  the  same 
way,  if  one  wtJI  improve  the  state  of  the  world  one  must 
know  something  about  the  beginning  of  the  world,  and  there- 
fore must  begm  at  the  beginning.  One  must  go  methodi- 
cally to  work.  Suppose  now  that  we  imagine  the  beginning, 
I  mean  the  creation.  Imagine  then,  my  gracious  Countess,  a 
— movement,  yes,  just  a  movement,  as  of  an  immense  mass 
of  meal  porridge,  which  fills  all  space ;  and  the  whole  of  this 
mass  moves  and  moves  and  seethes,  just  as  one  sees  porridge 
heaving  and  seething  in  a  big  pot.  But  through  all  this 
heaving  and  this  seething,  the  grains   (the  atoms,  as  the 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  25 

learned  call  them,  but  we  will  express  ourselves  in  a  popular 
manner)  collect  or  mass  themselves  together  into  small 
lumps  and  clmnps,  and  these  again  lump  themselves  together 
mto  still  larger  and  larger  lumps  and  masses — and  so  it  goes 
on  till — till  at  last  aU  the  porridge-grains  have  adhered  in  one 
great  lump  or  mass,  which  we  caU  the  earth.  Now  it  is 
ready ;  now  there  it  lies,  like  a  great  ball,  and  now  it  gets  a 
good  soimd  blow  or  bang  on  its  side,  which  sends  it  spinning 
round  and  roimd  into  mfinite  space,  till " 

"  But,  my  dear  Professor,  who  gave  it  the  blow  ?"  inquired 
the  Countess. 

"  Blow  here  and  bang  there  !"  exclaimed  Major  von  Post, 
the  hvely  maitre  des  plaisirs  of  both  the  town  and  the  present 
company,  interrupting  at  this  point  the  history  of  creation ; 
"  pardon,  good  uncle,  but  since  you  helped  our  Lord  in  the 
creation  of  the  world,  be  so  good  as  to  help  us  a  httle  in 
bringing  our  Valhalla  into  order,  and  lend  us  your  head  for 
Mimer's  head." 

The  good  Professor  seemed  at  the  first  moment  somewhat 
confounded  by  this  unexpected  proposal,  but  immediately 
rephed  with  a  good-tempered  smUe  : 

"  Most  willingly,  '-fi  I  can  only  be  sure  about  what  is  going 
to  happen  to  my  head.  For  as  I  remember,  Mimer's  head 
had  to  undergo  some  extraordinary  operations,  such  as  being 
cut  oflf,  being  boiled,  and " 

"  Ah,  dear  papa,  there  is  no  danger.  I'll  be  answerable  for 
your  head,"  interrupted,  laughing,  an  elegantly  attired  lady, 
over  whose  full,  but  still  youthful  countenance,  such  a  sun- 
shine of  joy  and  kindhness  was  diffused,  that  it  seemed  as 
though  it  could  never  have  any  wrinkles ;  and  while  Mimmi 
Svanberg  endeavored  with  her  white  and  soft  hand  to  smoothe 
down  the  Professor's  disorderly  grey-streaked  locks,  she  con- 
tinued ;  "  we  assume  here  many  dissimilar  shapes,  but  always 
remain  ourselves  nevertheless.  I  am  going  to  be,  one  after 
another,  first  a  witch,  then  a  goddess,  and  lastly  Pax  Domes- 
tica,  with  a  whole  train  of  sweeping-brooms  and  dust-pans  j— 
papa,  be  a  splendid  Mimer !" 


26  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

"  Well,  just  as  you  like,  my  dear  Mimmi ;  but " 

"Everybody  must  come;  one  go  after  another.  Let  us 
begin,  let  us  begin,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  or  we  shall  never  be 
ready  !  "  exclaimed  the  Major. 

"  One  moment ;  just  one  moment  more,  my  dear  Major," 
besought  the  lady  of  the  house ;  "  let  us  first  have  tea.  It  is 
just  ready.  And  everything  will  go  on  with  so  much  more 
spirit  when  people  have  had  some  refreshment." 

We  hope  that  by  this  time  we  have  corrected  the  suspicion 
which  our  readers  at  the  beginning  might  have  entertained, 
namely,  that  they  were  in  a  company  of  fools.  They  are  now 
aware  most  likely  that  they  are  in  company  with  very  rational 
people,  assembled  to  amuse  themselves  with  a  merry  scheme. 
The  company  have  this  evening  met  in  Merchant  Dufva's 
large  drawing-room,  for  the  rehearsal  of  a  great  fancy-ball, 
which  was  to  take  place  a  few  days  later  in  the  splendid  new 
Assembly  Rooms  of  the  town,  and  which  was  to  be  the 
crowning  festivity  of  all  the  festive  occasions  of  the  present 
winter ;  "  altogether  most  exquisitely,  most  divinely  amusing," 
said  the  young  girls. 

People  had  enjoyed  this  winter  many  public  festivities  in  the 
good  tovm  of  Kimgskoping,  which,  although  not  properly 
belonging  to  the  small  towns,  yet,  nevertheless,  under  ordinary 
circumstances,  participated  in  the  ordinary  mode  of  hfe  pecu- 
liar to  small  Swedish  towns,  which  has  been  described  by  a 
lady  residing  in  a  small  town  as  follows : — "  One  day  is  so 
terribly  like  another  that  people  don't  know  how  to  dis- 
tinguish one  from  another."  For  this  reason  many  an 
inhabitant  of  a  little  town,  that  he  may  not  drop  fast  asleep 
from  sheer  weariness,  endeavors  to  keep  himself  awake  by 
drinldng  punch,  playing  at  cards,  and  many  other  such  pas- 
times, which  have  the  result  of  making  the  purse  light,  and 
the  heart  heavy.  The  ladies  again,  when  they  do  not  partake 
of  the  gentlemen's  pastime — which  sometimes  happens — 
generally  endeavor  to  amuse  themselves  with  coffee-parties, 
novel-reading,  and  petty  scandal,  by  way  of  a  little  spice  to 
the  thin,  spiritual  soup  of  daily  life.    And  this  especially  dur- 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS,  2T 

ing  our  long  northern  winters.  But  this  winter  m  Kungskop* 
ing  formed  a  brilliant  exception  to  orcUnary  winters.  The 
raih'oad,  which  was  being  laid  down  just  outside  the  toMTi, 
had  brought  to  its  social  circles  a  number  of  young  engineers, 
for  the  most  part  lively  and  mtelligent  men,  who  had  given  a 
new  spring  to  every  pleasure,  and  people  had  especially  afford- 
ed them  opportunities  for  cheerful  exercise  at  their  balls,  and 
their  suppers,  which  had  taken  the  character  of  balls.  In  short, 
nobody  could  remember  there  ever  having  been  so  gay  a 
winter  before  at  Kungskoping. 

People  talked  also  about  three  marriage  engagements  which 
were  on  foot,  besides  one  which  was  a  settled  thing.  This 
last  was  between  the  eldest  daughter  of  the  house  where  the 
company  were  now  assembled,  and  the  rich  iroimiaster,  Tack- 
jern,  "a  very  good  match,"  said  everybody,  because  Eva 
DuiVa  would  have  her  own  house,  her  own  carriage — to 
say  nothing  of  having  a  very  respectable  man  I'or  her  hus- 
band. 

Eva  Dufv^a,  however,  looked  pale,  and  not  very  happy. 
But  she  was  one  of  many  sisters  of  a  family  not  rich,  though 
tolerably  well  to  do — and  they  all,  parents  and  sisters,  had 
been  delighted  with  this  wealthy  offer.  She  would  be  able  to 
make  them  all  happy  ;  could  invite  her  parents  to  dinner,  and 
her  sisters  out  into  the  coimtry  to  "\dsit  her  at  her  country- 
house.  Eva  Dufva  said  yes  to  the  iron-master  Tackjern,  who 
offered  her  all  this.  The  wedding  was  therefore  to  take  place 
in  May,  upon  the  silver  wedding-day  of  her  parents,  and  the 
golden  wedding-day  of  the  old  grand-parents;  and  in  prepara- 
tion for  this  great  occasion  Mr.  Alderman  Dufva  repaired, 
added  to,  and  put  in  order  his  house,  and  the  approaching 
three-fold  marriage  festival  cheered  the  house  and  the  minds 
of  all  with  every  kind  of  happy  preparation.  Mrs.  Dufva 
herself,  a  handsome  woman,  who  loved  to  do  everything  on  a 
magnificent  scale,  appeared  to  be  the  moving  soul  in  every- 
thing, arranging  and  determining  all  with  the  utmost  pleasure; 
only  now  and  then  she  cast  a  stolen  and  troubled  glance  at 
the  pale  and  grave  bride  elect,  her  daughter.      But  thought 


28  THE   FOUE   SISTERS. 

she  to  herself,  "  when  she  is  married,  and  sees  herself  pos- 
sessed of  everything  so  splendid  and  good,  then " 

And  so  thinks  many  a  mother. 

Now  whilst  tea  and  other  refreshments  are  carried  romid, 
and  the  gods  and  goddesses,  good  fairies  and  goblins,  seat 
themselves  in  mndow-nooks  and  at  httle  tables,  and  enjoy 
themselves  and  talk  together,  we  will  avaU  ourselves  of  the 
opportunity  to  become  more  iutmiately  acquainted  with  some 
persons  and  groups  of  the  party,  and  listen  to  the  conversation 
which  is  going  on  amongst  them. 

We  will  first  appi'oach  a  married  couple,  who  look  particu- 
larly comfortable,  because  we  love  comfortable  people  and 
married  couples,  and  we  can  see  plainly  enough  that  they  are 
such ;  that  little  clergyman,  with  his  somewhat  undersized 
figure ;  his  broad  chest,  his  almost  chUd-like,  round,  and  open 
countenance,  and  that  little  lady  whose  appearance  gives  us  a 
foreknowledge  that  she  imites  in  her  own  person  both  Mary 
and  Martha,  and  who  now,  laying  her  hand  so  confidentially  on 
the  pastor's  shoulder,  says  in  a  low  voice  : 

"  Now,  my  little  old  man !  Now  I  think  it  is  a  good  oppor- 
tunity for  you  to  brmg  forward  your  proposal." 

"  Now  ?  How  so  ?  "  sighed  the  httle  pastor,  \vith  a  comic 
expression  of  terror,  "  my  dear  little  old  woman,  let  me 
strengthen  myself  first ;  let  me  get  a  little  power  and  courage 
by  the  help  of  this  good  tea,  and  these  good  biscuits,  and — 
and — a  little  glass  of  rum !  Do  you  see — this  is  a  subject 
which  it  is  not  so  easy  to  introduce.  Do  you  see — Here 
comes  Mimmi  Svanberg ;  only  don't  talk  about  that  proposal. 
Sit  down  and  drink  tea  with  us.  What  would  you  hke? 
what  would  you  have?  A  pair  of  old  boots?  I  would  very 
wilUngly  keep  them  for  myself.  Mother,  don't  you  forget 
that  Mimmi  is  to  have  my  old  boots — nota  bene — only  I  must 
wear  them  out  first." 

"  Ah,  what  is  it  that  you  good  people  are  laughing  at  ?  " 
asked  a  lady  with  a  singularly  dark  and  mournful  j)hysiog- 
nomy,  as  she  advanced  towards  the  trio.  This  was  the  widow 
Ulrika  Uggla. 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  29 

Mrs.  TJggla  and  Mimmi  Svanberg  are  the  greatest  con- 
trasts in  the  world.  The  latter  smiles,  and  is  always  endeavor- 
ing to  make  life  more  easy  for  herself  and  others ;  the  former 
sighs  over  everything,  and  sees  everywhere  only  that  which  is 
painful  and  misightly. 

"  I  do  not  know,"  continued  she,  "  how  people  can  be  so 
merry  when  there  is  so  much  sorrow  and  vexation  m  the 
world." 

"  For  that  very  reason,"  rephed  Mimmi  Svanberg,  "  one 
must  endeavor  to  make  it  more  cheerful.  Besides,  there  is 
also  a  great  deal  which  is  very  good,  and  which  makes  one 
very  happy." 

"  Yes,  so  it  seems  to  you ;  but  to  those  who  think  a  little 
more  seriously  on  things  in  general — in  this  very  house,  for 
instance,  it  seems  to  me  that  all  this  joy  is  really  sorrow  in 
disguise." 

"  In  this  house !  But  where,  in  all  the  world,  can  one  find 
a  more  comfortable  home, — a  more  agreeable  family, — a  more 
beautiful  understanding  between  parents  and  children, — more 
amiable  young  girls  ? 

"  Yes,  those  seven  Miss  Dufvas ! — it  is  really  a  cheerful 
prospect  to  have  so  many  gu-ls  ;  poor  girls  to  be  got  rid  of; 
what  is  to  become  of  them  all  ?  " 

"  Oh,  time  enough  for  that  yet ;  such  nice  girls  as  they  are. 
Besides,  one  of  them  is  already  engaged." 

"  Yes,  but  how  does  she  look  ?  As  if  she  were  ready  to 
make  away  with  herself  Nothing  but  sorrow  will  come  out 
of  that  mai'riage,  that  I  can  foresee  ;  and  aU  the  other  gu'ls — 
they  will,  all  of  them,  be  Uke  superfluous  cards." 

"  There  are  no  longer  any  such  cards  in  the  world,"  said 
Mimmi  Svanberg,  laughing  ;  "  now-a-days  all  people  are  need- 
ed for  the  well-being  of  the  public,  and  may  each  one  takte 
his  proper  place  and  help  the  others  in  private  or  pubho 
societies." 

"  Psha !  with  your  pubUc  societies ;  they  are  the  most 
troublesome  things  that  I  know,  and,  if  I  have  my  will,  Inge- 
borg  shall  have  nothing  to  do  with  them.    They  are  all  down* 


30  THE   FOUR   ASTERS. 

right  nonsense,  and  good-for-nothing  schemes.  Girls  can  make 
fools  enough  of  themselves  in  the  world  without  adding  these 
public  societies  to  their  folly  !  " 

Mrs.  Uggla's  doleful  countenance,  and  mode  of  expressing 
herself,  seemed  so  absurd  to  Mimmi  Svanberg,  that  she  burst 
into  an  uncontrollable  fit  of  laughter:  the  clergyman,  how- 
ever, took  up  the  subject  more  seriously,  and  replied: 

"  I  do  not  think  so.  If  girls  make  fools  of  themselves  in 
the  world,  it  is  their  own  fault  and  the  fault  of  their  mothers. 
Would  to  God  that  I  had  twice  as  many  daughters  as  Mrs. 
Dufva;  I  should  find  ways  and  means  and  employment  for 
them  all,  partly  at  home  and  partly  from  home,  precisely  in 
some  of  those  excellent  societies  for  the  well-being  of  the 
community,  which  offer  to  all  and  every  one  an  opportunity 
of  being  useful,  and  serving  our  Lord,  each  one  according  to 
his  several  talents  and  turn  of  mind." 

"  It  is  all  talk!"  said  Mrs.  Uggla,  with  an  angry  expression ; 
"  a  girl  ought  to  get  married  and  have  her  own  family  and 
domestic  affairs  to  look  after.  And  that  Ingeborg  might  have 
had,  if  she  had  not  in  her  youth  been  a  romantic  simpleton, 
and  refused  a  good  offer,  merely  because  she  was  not  in  love 
with  the  man.  For  that  reason  she  now  sits  there  hke  a  piece 
of  furniture,  and  is  red-nosed,  and  old,  and  never  wUl  be  any- 
thing but  an  old  maid.  It  is  altogether  nothing  but  stupidity 
and  vexation," 

She,  of  whom  these  hard  words  were  spoken,  was  a  young 
woman  of  about  thirty,  or  somewhat  more,  and  whose  appear- 
ance and  manner  betrayed  a  painful  consciousness  of  a  youth 
which  was  passed,  and  a  restless  endeavor  still  to  retain  it. 
She  had  handsome  teeth,  and  therefore  she  oftentimes  smiled, 
although  her  smile  was  deficient  in  gladness,  while  her  dress 
was  more  youthful  than  became  her  age  and  her  appearance. 
When  her  mother's  restless  and  gloomy  eye  was  fixed  upon 
her,  she  might  especially  be  seen  to  assume  a  gaiety  and  live- 
liness which  evidently  did  not  proceed  fi-om  the  heart.  Hence 
it  followed  that  she  appeared  affected,  and  was  considered  to 
be  so. 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  31 

Minimi  Svanberg,  who  understood  and  valued  Ingeborg 
TJggla  better  than  her  splenetic  mother  did,  said : 

"  Ingeborg  is  not  a  common  character,  and  may  yet  marry 
well  if  she  likes.  Li  the  meantime  I  think  that  she  showed 
her  good  taste,  and  her  noble,  right  feehng,  by  remaining 
rather  in  her  mother's  house  than  marry  a  man  whom  she 
could  not  like." 

With  these  words  Mimmi  Svanberg,  as  if  afraid  of  further 
contention  on  the  subject,  rose  up  to  speak  with  some  other 
persons  in  the  room,  calling  forth,  for  the  most  part,  wherever 
she  came,  cheerful  conversation  and  laughter. 

We  will  now  listen  to  what  that  group  of  young  men  are 
saying. 

A,  "  It  is  dreadfully  slow  here.  There  won't  be  a  single 
card-table  this  evening." 

J^.  "  I  doubt  it.  Let's  make  the  best  of  a  bad  business.  I'll 
go  and  talk  with  the  ladies." 

A.  "  The  deuce  you  will !  It  is  such  hard  work  making 
polite  speeches.  No,  I'll  be  off  to  my  club,  smoke  a  cigar  and 
have  a  bowl  of  punch,  which  you're  very  welcome  to  empty 
with  me." 

^.  "  Not  a  bad  idea ;  but — I'll  just  have  a  little  talk  first 
with  little  Miss  D.  She  is  a  very  nice  little  girl,  and  is  said 
to  have  in  expectation  her  fifty  thousand  banko." 

C.  "  Introduce  me  to  her,  my  good  fellow !  Be  so  good  as 
to  introduce  me  ;  but  stay,  tell  me  first,  for  I  am  only  just  come 
to  this  place,  which  are  the  richest  girls  here  this  evening." 

-S.  "  I  can't  exactly  say — not  precisely ;  let's  look  round. 
First  there  are  the  young  ladies  of  the  house ;  my  friend  Von 
Tackjern  is  betrothed  to  one  of  them,  but  the  other  six  or  seven 
are  yet  to  be  had." 

C  "  The  sweet  little  doves !  but  are  they  worth  anything  ? 
you  understand  me !" 

JB.  "  Not  much  to  speak  of,  I  fancy,  except  handsome  fea- 
thers— a  good  outfit." 

0.  "  Well,  we'U  let  them  fly.  There  are  two  very  pretty 
girls  sitting  there,  as  much  alike  as  if  they  were  sisters." 


32  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

B.  "The  Miss  Roses;  the  Roses,  as  they  are  generally 
called :  most  charming  girls ;  they  are  very  accomplished " 

C.  "  Yes,  but  have  they  any  money  as  well  ?" 
-S.  "  They  have  nothing  but  hearts  and  roses," 

C.  "  Well,  we'll  leave  them  sitting  there,  then.  Now  let's 
go  on  in  the  fail-." 

jB.  "  Beside  them  sits  JMiss  Uggla ;  not  exactly  poor,  and 
rather  a  niceish  sort  of  gu"l ;  but  she's  getting  old  now  ;  has 
been  at  balls  for  I  don't  know  how  many  years,  so  that  she  is 
quite  faded  and  passee." 

C.  "  Pass  her  by  then  and  go  on  to  somebody  else.  Who 
is  that  who  sits  beside  her,  dressed  in  black  ?  she  has  a  fine 
figure,  but  she  looks  so  cursedly  positive." 

B.  "  Be  on  yom*  guard  against  her,  for  she  has  a  sharp 
tongue  !  She  is  nevertheless  worth  her  twenty  thousand  banko, 
that  is  to  say,  when  papa,  old  Falk,  is  dead ;  because,  so  long 
as  he  is  alive,  he  won't  part  with  a  single  stiver,  that's  a  cer- 
tainty." 

G.  "  Twenty  thousand  banko !  nay,  that  is  too  low  a  figure 
for  me  to  put  myself  under  the  petticoat  government  of  such 
a  ruler.     Such  bondage  as  that  must  be  pretty  well  gilded." 

B.  "  Here  comes  the  bridegroom  elect,  the  future  son-in-law 
of  the  house,  my  friend  Yon  Tackjern,  a  rich  and  capital  fellow 
— coming  to  speak  to  me." 

G.  "  Introduce  me  to  him,  my  good  fellow ;  I  am  only  just 
come  to  the  place,  and  should  Hke  to  become  acquainted  with 
the  respectable " 

The  introduction  took  place.  Mr.  Von  Tackjern  was  a  for- 
mal, substantial  gentleman,  Avho  liked  evidently  that  people 
should  bow  down  before  him,  but  was  not  very  much  inchned 
to  bow  to  others.  He  looked  as  if  an  iron  poker  were  rim 
through  him  from  head  to  foot.  To  the  congratulations  of 
his  friend  on  his  betrothal  with  so  amiable  a  young  lady,  he 
replied  coldly : 

"  She  is  a  good  girl,  and  will,  I  hope,  be  an  excellent  wife, 
and  make  me  happy.  I  look  for  the  reality  in  happiness  as 
well  as  in  life." 


THE   FOT  R   SISTERS.  33 

B.  "  A  very  right  and  prudent  way  of  tliinking ;  it  would 
be  well  if  every  one  thought  as  rationally." 

Von  Tackjern.  "  Yes,  people  would  render  themselves  and 
their  country  better  service  in  that  way  than  by  giving  them- 
selves up  to  every  kind  of  fantastic  and  philanthropic  whim. 
That  philanthropy,  with  all  its  societies  and  collections,  it 
totally  rums " 

J5,  "  Don't  speak  so  loud,  for  here  comes  a  lady  very  for- 
midable on  this  scoi-e,  one  of  our  fellow  citizenesses " 

"  Say  formidable,  because  she  is  UTesistible  by  her  good  heart 
and  her  good  temper,  this  tutelar  saint  of  the  poor,"  said  a 
young  man  who  stood  near  the  speakers,  "  and  one  cannot 
possibly  say  no  to  an3rthing  which  she  desires." 

"  It  is  one  of  my  principles  never  to  put  my  name  down  to 
any  subscriptions,"  said  Von  Tackjern,  and  buttoned  up  his 
coat. 

"  And  it  is  one  of  mine  always  to  do  so,"  said  the  former 
speaker,  "  when  they  are  promoted  by  persons  whom  I  know 
to  be  really  the  friends  of  the  poor,  as  is  the  case  Avith  my 
cousin  Mimmi  Svanberg." 

Mimmi  Svanberg  came  up  to  the  last  speaker  at  this  very 
moment  and  asked  in  a  merry  and  low  voice : 

"  My  good  Yngve,  your  father  was  a  warm  friend  of  his 
coimtry,  and  you  are  his  worthy  son,  and — you  have  no  doubt 
an  old  pair  of  boots !  I  want  a  pan-  tliis  week." 

"  They  shall  stand  before  your  door  to-morrow  morning, 
my  dear  cousin ;  because  if  I  have  not  any,  some  of  my  friends 
have,  which  will  be  quite  at  your  service.  Whose  old  legs  are 
you  going  to  make  happy  with  them? — though  it  is  all  one 
to  me.  But  do  you  not  v/ant  two  pair  ?  Go  and  ask  our  rich 
ironmaster  here " 

"  No  thank  you ;  I  shall  take  care  not  to  do  so.  I  know 
to  whom  I  go.  Thank  you,  dear  Yngve.  But  I  have  not 
done  with  you  yet ;  I  want  to  turn  this  evenuig  to  good 
account ;  and  you  must  help  me  to  do  so.  I  want  the  price 
of  the  tickets  to  be  applied  to  the  benefit  of  our  inflint  school. 
Cannot  you  propose  it,  Yngve  ?  We  must  speak  to  our  good 
2 


34  THE  FOUR  SISTERS, 

pastor  about  it  and  endeavor  to  interest  Mrs.  Tupplander  in 
the  subject.     Wliere  is  she  ?" 

Mrs.  Tupplander  sate  in  the  middle  of  the  sofa,  ghttering  in 
full  feather  and  pomp  of  attire,  enthroned  like  a  queen,  or 
rather  as  one  who  would  enact  the  queen.  Mrs.  Tupplander 
would  in  fact  be  very  wiEingly  queen-regent  of  the  town,  the 
greatest  chicken  in  the  hen-cooj),  as  the  saying  is,  the  first  lady 
in  company,  and  as  yet  no  one  has  contested  the  place  with 
her,  because  she  is  a  rich  widow,  who  gives  hberal  alms,  and 
extremely  good  dinners,  to  which  her  housekeeping  companion, 
a  lady  of  good  family,  the  Honorable  Miss  Krusbjorn,  greatly 
contributes.  Miss  Krusbjorn  has  a  genius  in  this  hne,  and 
manages  Mrs.  Tupplander's  house  both  in  a  clever  and  splen- 
did manner,  which  is  precisely  according  to  Mrs.  Tupj)lander's 
notions.  Mrs.  Tupplander  and  Miss  Krusbjorn  divide  the 
rule  of  the  family,  as  in  a  constitutional  government,  into  the 
upper  and  lower  house;  but  in  case  of  difference  of  opinion, 
which  fi-equently  occurs,  the  lower  house  generally  carries  its 
own  point.  Mrs.  Tupplander  bears  the  name,  but  Miss  Krus- 
bjorn has  the  power.  Yet  Mrs.  Tupplander  and  Miss  Krus- 
bjorn could  not  Uve  without  each  other.  But  enough  for  the 
present  about  these  ladies. 

Mimmi  Svanberg,  who  saw  the  weaknesses  of  her  fellow 
creatures,  and  smiled  at  them  rather  than  let  them  annoy  her, 
was  nevertheless  sometimes  annoyed  by  Mrs,  Tupplander, 
though  she  always  kept  up  a  good  understanding  with  her  for 
the  sake  of  her  poor  neighbors ;  and  therefore  she  Hstened 
with  great  patience  to  the  description  of  a  dinner  which 
Mrs.  Tupplander  was  about  to  give,  and  of  all  the  delicate 
dishes  and  wines,  the  whole  sprinkled  with  the  praises  of  Miss 
Krusbjorn  and  her  talents.  When,  however,  Mrs,  Tupplander 
approached  the  end  of  her  dinner  details,  Mimmi  Svanberg 
attacked  her  on  her  weak  side,  as  the  friend  and  patroness 
of  the  poor,  and  obtained  the  promise  of  her  help  on  behalf  of 
a  needy  f:\mily,  as  well  as  her  advocacy  and  co-operation  in  a 
plan  which  would  be  brought  forward  that  very  evening.  In 
this  way  compelled  to  a  certain  degree,  Mrs.  Tupplander  gave 


THE   FOrR  SISTERS.  35 

her  consent,  but  added  vnih  a  little  pepper,  as  it  were,  on  the 
tip  of  her  tongue : 

"  I  cannot  for  my  part  imagine,  dear  Mimmi,  liow  you  can 
undertake  and  have  so  many  things  on  hand  at  once ;  your 
father,  on  the  contrary,  never  seems  to  be  ready  with  anything 
which  he  is  about." 

"  The  reason  is,"  repHed  Mimmi  gaily,  "  because  papa  lives 
for  eternity  and  I  merely  for  the  moment." 

Mimmi  Svanberg  had  in  fact  a  mode  of  speaking  and  acting 
very  unlike  that  of  her  father.  It  might  at  the  first  glance 
appear  to  be  of  that  kind  which  many  ladies  are  well  versed 
in,  and  which  may  be  called  the  hand-over-head  method.  But 
if  all  those  who  made  use  of  this  method  were  guided  by  so 
good  a  heart  and  so  clear  an  understanding  as  Mimmi  Svan- 
berg, then  they  would,  in  their  hand-over-head  proceedings, 
always  manage  to  say  and  to  do  the  very  wisest  and  best 
things. 

As  a  matter  of  course  Mimmi  Svanberg,  with,  these  warm 
impulses  and  this  disposition,  was  a  favorite  in  the  toAvn  both 
with  rich  and  poor,  nor  would  it  amaze  any  one  to  find  that 
she  had  a  great  number  of  uncles  and  aunts,  above  forty  cou- 
sins, and  an  almost  incalculable  number  of  good  fi-iends  and 
acquaintances  who  looked  up  to  her  for  counsel  and  help  in  joy 
as  well  as  in  sorrow.  Much  more  amazing  was  it  to  many 
people,  and  to  myself  among  the  rest,  that  Mimmi  Svanberg, 
warm-hearted,  universally  beloved,  and  good-looking,  should 
not  have  fixed  her  heart  steadfastly  upon  some  one,  instead  of 
moving  about  in  an  element  of  human  love  and  beneficence, 
like  a  bird  in  the  air  or  a  fish  in  the  water,  finding  enough  for 
herself  there  without   desh-ing   anything  besides.     Perhaps 

there  might  lie  behind  some  concealed  cause, which  we 

may  discover  on  some  future  day. 

We  will  now  accompany  her  fight  step  to  a  group  of  ladies, 
to  whom  we,  a  few  moments  ago,  saw  the  eyes  of  two  gentle- 
men directed,  assaying  their  worth.  It  was  thus  that  some 
young  gu-ls  talked  of  the  party  at  which  they  were  assembled. 

"Ah,  how  gay  it  will  be  here !   Quite  charmingly  gay.   But 


36  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

dou't  you  think  that  the  bride  elect  looks  very  grave,  and  her 
lover  very  stupid  ?" 

"Yes;  this  match  is,  on  her  side,  a  mere  money  match. 
There  was  another  whom  she  hked  much  better;  but  Von 
Tackjern  is  rich,  and  she  has  accepted  him  to  please  her 
family." 

"  Poor  girl !  If  I  had  been  in  her  case  I  would  have  had 
Lieutenant  M.     He  is  so  handsome,  and  so  agreeable." 

"Excepting  when  he  is  a  little — tipsy,  which  he  is  some- 
times." 

"  Oh,  but  then  he  is  so  very  charming  to  ladies.  He  is 
so  very  nice !  It  really  becomes  him  to  be  a  Uttle  '  half-seas- 
over.'  " 

"I  would  not  thank  you  for  a  husband  half-seas-over,  let 
him  be  ever  so  charming.  No,  much  rather  Von  Tackjern  for 
me ;  less  charming  but  more  sober.  That  will  certamly  be  no 
life  half  seas- over,  but  neither  will  there  be  any  ruin.  I  know 
nothing  in  the  world  worse  than  ruin." 

"  There  are  in  the  world  many  kinds  of  ruin.  But  what 
does  Hertha  say  about  it  ?" 

The  young  lady  now  appealed  to  was  the  same  that  we 
heard  spoken  of  before,  "  with  the  fine  figure,  but  who  looked 
so  deucedly  positive."  A  remarkably  noble  person  and  rich 
golden  hair  were,  in  fact,  the  only  things  which  agreeably 
distinguished  her.  A  cloud  seemed  to  envelope  her  whole 
being,  and  gave  a  sort  of  cloudy  and  unpleasant  air  to  her 
otherwise  regular  features.  She  sate  silent  and  indifferent, 
immovable  almost  as  a  statue,  and  apparently  lifeless.  If  roses 
had  ever  bloomed  upon  her  cheeks  they  had  already  faded, 
together  with  the  spring-time  of  youth ;  a  grey  monotonous 
tint  lay  on  her  whole  countenance;  the  eyelashes  drooped 
heavily  over  the  dark,  inanimate  eyes.  Her  dress  was  distin- 
guished by  its  simplicity  and  homeliness.  It  bore  not,  the 
slightest  superfluous  ornament,  yet  it  fitted  her  exquisite  form 
with  the  nicest  exactitude. 

At  the  words,  "What  does  Hertha  think  about  it?"  she 
slightly  turned  her  head,  and  said  coldly : 


THE    FOLK    SISTERS.  3t 

""I  think  it  is  a  miserable  state  of  things  where  a  good  and 
charming  girl  cannot  have  any  other  choice  than  to  marry  a 
man  hall-seas-over,  or  a  man  without  a  heart,  and  who  evi 
dently  does  not  trouble  himself  much  about  her." 

The  young  girls  laughed,  and  said  in  a  low  voice : 

"  Hertha  speaks  plain  enough !  She  is  not  afraid  of  saying 
what  she  thinks," 

"Afraid!"  exclaimed  Hertha;  "no,  I  am  not  afraid — not 
now,  at  least." 

"  But,  my  dear  Hertha,"  said,  anxiously,  a  httle  elderly  lady, 
who  was  mcessantly  twiddling  her  fingers  as  if  she  were  wind- 
ing yarn,  or  unravelling  a  tangled  skein,  "  one  must  think  a 
little,  though,  about  what  people  may  say.  Besides,  just 
remember !  Eva  Duf\^a  has  no  fortune,  and  will  be  so  well 
provided  for  all  her  days." 

"  I  tliink,"  said  Hertha,  with  the  same  cold  indifference  as 
before,  "  that  it  is  humiliating  for  a  girl  to  marry  merely  to  be 
well  provided  for.  Much  more  honorable  would  it  be  for  her 
to  help  to  provide  for  those  whom  she  loves.  That  it  seems  to 
me  is  far  preferable,  is  an  honor." 

"Ah,"  returned  the  little  old  lady,  whose  countenance  and 
whole  person  had  a  resemblance  to  a  ravelled  skein,  "now 
Hertha  is  again  coming  out  ^dth  her  odd  ideas." 

"  She  is  quite  right,"  said  a  lady  in  the  circle  ;  "  marriage 
is  fi'equently  unhappy  because  girls  don't  marry  themselves  to 
souls,  or  hearts,  but  to — purses." 

"  No,  no,"  sighed  a  pale  young  woman,  "  not  to  purses, 
but  to  dreams,  and  that  is  not  much  better,  at  least  for  the 
happiness  of  the  heart.  One  sees  so  much  that  is  beautiful 
in  him  one  loves  ;  one  sees  in  him  the  ideal  about  which  one  has 
dreamed,  and  which  is  to  elevate  one  to  the  good  and  the 
great.  One  fancies  that  one  shall  find  a  God,  and  one  finds — " 
here  she  suddenly  checked  herself,  while  a  famt  crimson  suf- 
fused her  pale  countenance,  and  she  merely  added — "  and  one 
finds  that  which  one  did  not  expect." 

"  But,  my  dear  Emily,"  said  the  elder  lady,  smiling,  "  if  we  , 
do  not  find  gods  in  oiir  husbands,  neither  do  they,  indeed,  find  ' 


38  THE   YOVR   SISTERS. 

goddesses  in  us.  And  men  are,  in  a  general  way,  much  better 
informed,  and  much  more  thoroughly  educated  than  women, — 
that  even  you  must  concede,  Hertha." 

"  They  know  much  more,  perhaps,"  rephed  Hertha,  "  but 
it  is  not  the  fault  of  the  women  that  there  are  few  things 
which  they  can  learn,  and  even  those  few  so  seldom  thoroughly. 
But  even  then,  are  men  more  just,  more  reasonable,  more  high- 
minded  than  women  ?  Do  ihey  think  and  act  more  from  the 
innermost  of  life  ?  In  a  word,  have  they  more  true  human 
culture  ?  " 

"But  do  women  in  a  general  way  possess  this?"  asked 
one  of  the  ladies,  in  a  depreciating  tone. 

"  They  would  possess  this,  and  might  even  impart  it," 
rephed  Hertha,  "  if  their  feeling  for  the  innermost  of  life 
obtained — Hfe,  truth.  But  it  is  not  developed,  and  therefore 
both  sexes  remain  alike  trammelled  and  fundamentally  uncul- 
tured." 

"  Xay  then,  Hertha  has  a  regular  frenzy  to-day,  quite  first 
rate !  "  said  the  young  girls,  smiling.  "  Only  think,  if  the 
gentlemen  heard  you ! — You  will  certainly  never  be  married, 
Hertha." 

"  Well,  and  what  then  ?  "  said  Hertha,  bluntly,  but  at  the 
same  time  half  smiling.  "  Is  marriage,  in  a  general  way,  so 
haj^py  in  this  world,  that  the  highest  happiness  may  be  consi- 
dered as  bemg  found  in  marriage  ?  " 

"  Ah,  no,"  said  the  pale  young  lady,  with  a  sigh,  "  but  it 
makes  us  mothers,  and  in  that  way  it  gives  us  a  rich  and  deep 
experience  of  life,  which  can  never  be  the  lot  of  an  unmarried, 
childless  woman." 

The  young  girls  were  quite  silent,  as  if  struck  by  the  truth 
of  these  words. 

Hertha  said,  "  All  married  women  have  not  children.  And 
is  there  not  a  pecuUar,  rich  experience,  a  deep  insight  into  life, 
whicli  can  alone  be  the  portion  of  the  immarried  woman  ?  " 

Hertha's  voice  betrayed  an  inward  emotion,  as  she  conti- 
nued : — 

"If  our  education  were  not  so  utterly  miserable,  and  the 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  39 

object  of  our  lives  so  utterly  poverty-strickeu  and  circum- 
scribed ;  if  we  Avere  early  instructed,  instead  of  seeking  for 
support  out  of  ourselves,  to  seek  for  it  in  our  own  breasts,  in 
our  own  powers;  if  we  were  able  to  devote  life  and  life's 
energies  to  great  and  noble  purposes ;  if  we  were  permitted  to 
listen  to  the  inner  voice,  and  follow  its  insijirations  rather  than 
aU  kinds  of  opinions  around  us ;  if  we  were  allowed  to  do  the 
work  which  we  should  love  to  do, — then  I  am  certain  that  we 
should  become  noble  and  even  happy,  should  be  lawgivers  to 
ourselves  and  even  others." 

"  Good  gracious !  my  deai-  Heitha,  do  you  wish  that  ladies 
should  be  lawyers,  or  perhaps  attorney-generals,  and  sit  on  the 
high  seat  of  justice  ?  "  said  the  little  old  lady,  working  with 
her  fingers  more  nervously  than  ever,  and  evidently  very 
uneasy. 

"Not  exactly  so,"  replied  Hertha,  half  smiling;  "but 
rather — more  than  that," 

"  What  more  ?  what  more  ?"  asked  many  ladies  in  the 
group,  smUing  and  inquisitive. 

Hertha  was  silent  for  a  moment,  and  then  said,  whilst  a 
faint  crimson  lighted  up  her  cheek,  though  the  melodious 
voice  continued  calm  as  a  tranquilly  heaving  wave : 

"  In  the  old  times  it  was  believed  that  something  great  and 
deep  was  indwelling  in  woman,  which  could  not  be  fuUy  deve- 
loped unless  she  remained  alone,  alone  with  the  Divinity. 
Then  even  women  were  priestesses  in  the  service  of  the  holy, 
of  the  divine.  This  belief  is  now  lost.  Now  people  merely 
wish  that  young  girls  should  be  '  sweet  girls,'  accompUshed' 
and  so  on,  that  they  may  get  married  as  soon  as  possible,  it 
matters  little  with  whom,  so  that  he  can  but  provide  well  for 
his  wife.  This  is  a  miserable  view  of  life  and  of  the  destiny 
of  woman,  degrading  to  women  and  perhaps  still  more  so  to 
men.  For  the  blame  of  it  lies  very  much  in  womanly  cowar- 
dice, but  still  more  in  the  want  of  justice  and  high-mindednesa 
of  man ;  and  he  lowers  himself  in  the  same  proportion  as  he 
lowers  us." 

"  Nay,  you  are  now  going  too  far,  dear  Hertha !"  exclaimed 


40  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

tlie  little  old  lady,  writhmg  in  agony :  "  consider  what  you  are 
saying.  Things  don't  go  on  in  this  world  as  in  le  palais  de  la 
Verity.  You  wUl  make  yourself  detested  both  by  gentlemen 
and  ladies." 

"  I  know  it,"  said  Hertha,  with  her  hands  crossed,  and  tlie 
calmness  as  of  a  sybil. 

"And  only  think  if  any  of  the  gentlemen  here  heard  you ! 
they  would  be  so  angry  at  you  !  you  would  never  be  invited 
to  the  balls.  You'll  be  getting  into  the  newspapers ;  you'll 
have,  hke  me,  a  lawsuit  on  your  shoulders.  It  does  not  an- 
swer, speaking  one's  mind  so  freely — you'U  make  yourself  and 
aU  of  us  unhappy." 

"  Have  you,  then,  so  bad  an  opinion  of  us  as  to  believe  that 
we  could  not  bear  to  hear  a  httle  keen  truth  ?"  inquired  a  mild 
and  manly  voice ;  and  a  young  man,  who,  leaning  against  the 
window-frame,  concealed  from  the  group  of  ladies  by  the  thick 
curtains,  had  heard  the  conversation,  now  came  forward,  took 
a  chair,  and  seated  himself  in  the  circle  just  opposite  Hertha. 
His  handsome  person,  the  manly,  frank,  and  genei'ous  expres- 
sion of  his  youthful  countenance,  the  ease  and  calmness  of  his 
bearing,  which  betrayed  a  certain  modest  assurance,  or  rather 
certainty  of  not  displeasing ;  all  these,  combined  with  the  me- 
lodious voice,  won  for  him  immediately  the  cheerful  atten- 
tion of  the  whole  group. 

He  continued,  addressing  his  remarks  to  Hertha  : 

"  You  are  perfectly  right.  We  men  are  in  many  ways  defi- 
cient in  the  deeper  human  culture  ;  but  it  is  incumbent  on  the 
ladies  to  give  iis  this ;  for  they  have,  incontestably,  an  uiborn 
deeper  sense  of  the  innermost  of  life  than  we.  The  latest  work 
of  the  Creator  obtained  this  as  her  dower." 

"  But  our  legislators  think  quite  otherwise,"  rei^lied  Hertha. 
"  They  regard  women,  at  least  in  our  country,  as  beings  who 
are  still  in  their  tutelage ;  and,  precisely  as  a  consequence  of 
this,  they  frequently  become  weak,  vacillating  souls,  that  never 
can  attain  to  years  of  discretion,  lacking  faith  in  themselves. 
I  don't  mean,"  continued  she,  her  cheek  again  tinged  with  a 
fai)it  crimson,  "  the  faith  which  is  the  offspring  to  blind  self- 


THE    FOUR    STSTKRS.  41 

love  ;  many  nave  too  much  of  that ;  I  mean  the  faith  A\hich 
comes  from  confidence  in  the  truth  of  our  own  being,  in  God's 
hght  and  voice  within  us." 

"  True,  very  true,"  again  said  the  young  man.  "  Ladies 
often  rule  more  through  feminine  caprice  and  weakness,  or  by 
their  outward  attractions,  than  by  their  nobler  powers.  The 
greater  number  never  imagine  hoAV  they  would  become  a 
thousand  times  more  powerful  if  they  had  a  pleasure  in  be- 
coming true,  high-minded  women  seekmg  only  the  highest. 
Then  would  they  elevate  us  with  themselves.  If  there  were 
now-a-days  women  such  as  the  priestesses  of  antiquity,  female 
judges,  vestal  virgins,  it  is  at  their  feet  that  I  would  sit,  to  their 
words  that  I  would  listen,  as  to  oracles  fi-om  the  hohest  depths 
of  life.  And  for  my  best  knowledge  and  most  valuable  attain- 
ments, I  have  to  thank  women  of  this  self-Hluminatrng,  guiding 
class." 

A  light,  as  of  the  rosy  dawn  above  the  cloudy  east,  lit  up 
Hertha's  cheek  at  these  words,  and  her  eyes  flashed  like  dia- 
monds, catching  the  rays  of  light.  It  brightened  her  whole 
countenance,  whilst  the  little  lady  at  her  side  looked  utterly 
amazed  and  confounded. 

Drawn  on,  probably  as  much  by  the  bold  candor  and  the 
purport  of  Hertha's  expression,  as  well  as  by  the  eifect  which 
it  was  evident  his  words  had  upon  her,  the  young  man  con- 
tinued to  address  his  conversation  principally  to  her.  He  had 
for  several  years  resided  in  foreign  countries  and  ditferent 
parts  of  the  world,  and  he  related  various  things  to  show  the 
position  of  woman,  and  her  influence  upon  difierent  races  of  man- 
kind ;  for,  singularly  enough,  he  appeared  to  have  devoted  his 
particular  attention  to  this  subject.  Every  one  within  the  cir- 
cle of  ladies  listened  attentively,  and  each  word  which  he  utter- 
ed was  a  question  eliciting  fresh  light  on  a  subject  which  in  so 
many  ways  interested  all.  Hertha  alone  said  nothing  ;  but  the 
narrator  seemed  nevertheless  to  speak  more  especially  for  her. 

When  soon  afterwards  he  was  suddenly  called  away  from 
the  circle,  and  this  broke  iip,  a  whispering  chorus  was  heard  of, 

"  Who  is  that  agreeable  yomig  man  ?     Most  amiable  ;  in- 


42  THE  FOUR  SISTERS. 

teresting !  charming !  I  am  regularly  in  love  with  him !  (N. 
B.  It  was  an  elderly  lady  who  said  that.)  Who  is  he? 
Where  does  he  come  from  ?  How  happens  it  that  nohody 
has  seen  him  before,  or  even  heard  speak  of  him  ?" 

"  It  happens  in  this  way,"  said  one  of  the  elder  gentlemen, 
enlightening  them,  "  that  he  never  before  was  in  our  neighbor- 
hood. His  father  was  the  proprietor  of  mines  in  Norrland, 
and  he  is  now  appointed  as  engineer  to  our  new  railroad.  I 
don't  know  a  more  excellent  or  more  promising  young  man 
than  Yngve  Nordin.  And  he  is  generally  much  liked  by  the 
ladies.  But  take  care  of  your  hearts,  yoimg  ladies,  for  he  is 
said  to  be  what  is  called  a  great  ladies'  man,  but  somewhat 
fickle  m  his  fancies." 

"  I  would  willingly  have  him  for  my  son  !"  said  one  of  the 
ladies. 

The  Roses  smiled  and  whispered  to  Hertha  :  "  Well,  stern 
Sybilla,  what,  have  you  to  say  against  this  young  man  ?  I 
fancy  that  he  has  found  grace  in  your  eyes  !" 

Hertha  smiled  with  an  air  of  indifference,  and  said :  "  He 
was  polite  to  us." 

She  now  prepared,  in  company  ^v^th  the  little,  fidgety  old 
lady,  to  leave  the  party,  and  her  countenance  again  began  to 
assume  its  gloomy,  dissatisfied  expression. 

Candles  were  lighted  in  the  drawing-room,  but  it  was  deep 
twihght  in  the  little  parlor  where  Hertha  and  her  companion 
attired  themselves. 

"Don't  foi-get  to  put  your  shawl  on  the  wrong  side  out, 
Hertha,"  said  the  Httle  old  lady ;  "  both  your  shawl  and  collar, 
for  it  will  be  damp  out  of  doors.  We  have  stayed  a  very  long 
time.  Heaven  grant  that  papa  is  not  angry !  Shawl  on  the 
wrong  side,  Hertha !  Oh,  that  you  should  have  such  odd 
notions,  and  talk  so  !  If  you  could  but  be  like  other  people ! 
Shawl  on  the  wrong  side — mind  that !" 

Whilst  Hertha  silently  and  mechanically  followed  the  direc- 
tions which  were  thus  given  to  her,  she  felt  her  hand  kissed 
and  wetted  by  a  hot  tear  by  some  one  whom  she  in  the  dark- 
ness could  not  distinguish. 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS,  43 

"Who  is  it  ?"  said  she  softly,  "  that  has  kissed  my  hand?" 

"  It  is  somebody  who  admires  you,"  replied,  softly,  a  sweet 
ft^minine  voice,  "  and  who  wishes  she  had  your  courage !" 

"  My  courage  !"  said  Hertha.  "  Oh,  God  keep  you,  Eva, 
ft'om  ever  experiencing  that  which  makes  me  courageous 
enough  to — shock  human  beings," 

She  kissed  the  young  girl  and  hastened  into  the  hall,  as  if 
afraid  of  saying  more,  whilst  little  aunt  Petronilla  fumbled 
after  her  things,  muttering,  "  Hertha !  Hertha  !  now  she  will 
certainly  forget  her  gloves,  Hertha,  where  is  my  green  bag 
and  the  tea-cake  for  little  Martha's  nameday !  Oh  that  she 
should  be  so  imguarded !  No,  see,  I  have  my  bag  on  my  arm 
and  the  tea-cake  is  in  it !  But  which  way  is  Hertha  gone  ? 
I  must  ahvays  take  charge  of  her  !" 

The  signal  for  breaking  off  the  conversation,  and  which  also 
seemed  to  have  occasioned  the  departure  of  Hertha  and  aunt 
Nella,  was  an  exclamation  fi-om  Major  Von  Post,  which  again 
summoned  gods  and  goddesses,  good  fairies  and  goblins,  to  a 
general  rehearsal  of  the  groups  and  scenes  of  the  fancy  ball, 

"  Now  you  must  make  haste  with  what  you  have  to  say, 
my  little  old  man,  or  you  will  be  too  late ;"  whisj)ered  eagerly 
the  wife  of  the  clergyman  to  her  husband ;  "  I  long  to  be 
going ;  I  someway  don't  feel  quite  in  sphits ;  I  don't  rightly 
know  why." 

The  good  pastor  now  started  up  and  said  in  a  strong,  deep 
voice:  "  Ladies  and  gentlemen,  divmities  of  Olympus  and  Val- 
halla !  will  you  allow  a  poor  mortal  to  say  a  few  words  to  you 
before  you  begin  your  sports,  and  before  I  take  my  departure  ? 
Have  I  permission  to  speak  ?" 

The  universally  beloved  pastor  was  always  willingly  listened 
to,  and  "  Speak,"  "  Speak,"  was  heard  on  all  sides, 

"  Ladies  and  gentlemen,"  continued  the  speaker,  with  a  mix- 
ture of  mirth  and  seriousness,  which  sometimes  was  changed 
to  deep  feeling,  and  then  the  voice  became  husky  and  falter- 
ing, as  if  it  struggled  against  emotion,  and  a  sudden  paleness 
overspread  the  otherwise  child-hke,  joyous,  and  open  counte- 
nance :  "  Ladies  and  gentlemen !  we  are  now  assembled  here 


44  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

to  arrange  a  something  which  it  is  beheved  will  be  very  en- 
tertaining, and  I  beheve  it  will  be  so  too.  I  believe  also  that 
Kin  Of  Solomon  was  right  when  he  said  that  there  was  a  time 
for  every  thing,  and  that  mirth  has  its  time  and  is  good  in 
itself.  But  if  one  could  at  the  same  time  both  amuse  oneself 
and  do  good,  then  there  would  be  a  twofold  advantage.  I 
believe  that  this  may  now  be  done.  Allow  me  to  tell  you 
how.  But  in  the  first  place  I  must  give  a  little  introduc- 
tion." 

"  Now  in  the  name  of  common  sense  what's  coming  ?  Some 
Magdalen  institution,  or  society  for  the  encouragement  of 
criminals !"  muttered  Mr.  Von  Tackjern,  between  his  teeth, 
and  buttoned  still  closer  his  breast  pocket. 

"  It  is  both  pitiable  and  laughable  at  the  same  time !"  sigh- 
ed Mrs.  Uggla ;  and  Mrs.  Von  Tupplander  shook  her  feather- 
adorned  head,  and  said  half  audibly,  "  Ah,  so  tiresome !" 

The  speaker  continued :  "  Whilst  we  are  here  amusing  our- 
selves by  playing  at  gods  and  goddesses,  and  ordering  gallons 
of  punch  and  champagne  for  our  Olympian  feast,  dozens  of 
poor  ragged  and  sometimes  half-famished  httle  children,  with- 
out care-takers  either  for  body  or  soul, — for  many  of  them 
have  wretched,  some  of  them  no  parents  at  all, — are  running 
about  our  town,  in  our  streets,  under  our  very  windows. 
These  children  need  guardianship,  instruction ;  they  need 
mothers  and  schools.  My  wife  and  a  few  other  ladies  have 
long  wished,  and  even  labored,  to  establish  an  infant  ragged 
school  into  which  such  poor  little  children  as  these  could  be 
received  ;  and  they  have  succeeded  so  far  as  to  bring  about  a 
beginnmg,  but  ah  !  so  small  a  beginning,  that  it  is  literally  biit 
an  infant  school,  and  not  sufficient  to  receive  one-third  part  of 
the  children  which  require  care.  We  want  a  locale,  we  want 
funds  to  enlarge  the  place  and  to  enable  us  to  give  the  poorest 
of  the  children  their  dinners  at  the  school.  Many  of  our  good 
and  considerate  ladies  here  know  of  a  certainty  how  great 
need  there  is  to  establish  some  superintendence  over  the  poor 
children  and  their  homes,  as  well  within  as  without  the  town, 
and  they  will  therefore  im questionably  consider  that  the  pro- 


TnE   POUR   SISTERS.  45 

position  wliicla  I  am  now  about  to  make  is  not  ill-timed,  nay 
rather  that  this  is  just  the  proper  time  and  season  m  which  to 
bring  it  forward,  I  propose  therefore  that  all  the  Goddesses 
and  Graces,  that  is  to  say,  all  the  ladies  here  present,  should 
form  themselves  into  a  Ladies*  Society  to  visit  the  homes  of 
the  poor,  look  after  the  children,  and  take  charge  of  and  use  nil 
their  means  to  support  the  infant  school ;  and  I  further  pro- 
pose that  for  the  obtaining  of  the  necessary  fimds  for  this  pur- 
pose, the  entrance-tickets  for  the  approaching  festivity  may 
be  made  chargeable  with  a  sort  of  impost  for  the  benefit  of 
the  Ladies'  Society  and  its  Infant  schools. 

"  Ladies  and  gentlemen  ! "  continued  the  speaker  with 
earnestness,  "many  of  you  are  perhaps  not  aware  that  at  no 
great  distance  from  our  Olympian  company,  here  in  the  town, 
there  stands  in  a  lane  an  old  house,  or  rather  a  barrack,  called 
the  Great  Quarter ;  there,  for  many  years,  has  been  assembled 
together  more  misery  and  wretchedness  than  many  of  you 
have  even  seen  during  the  whole  of  your  lives,  and  that 
amidst  these  dregs,  this  scum  of  our  town's  j)opulation,  live 
children — little  children,  ladies  and  gentlemen, — whom  any 
mother's  heart,  here  in  this  room,  might  thank  God  to  call  her 
own,  and  yet  which  are  in  the  Great  Quarter  cast  down  into 
every  kind  of  wretchedness.  I  say  to  you,  ladies  and  gentlemen, 
that  this  is  a  state  of  things  which  we  ought  not  to  tolerate,  but 
that  we  must  cleanse  out  this  quarter  of  hell,  or  at  least  rescue 
the  children  from  it,  and  let  them  come  into  God's  light  and  life. 
It  is  our  Christian  duty!  My  wife  has  often  urged  me  to 
speak  to  you  on  this  subject,  and  now  I  have  done  it, — and  I 
am  glad  that  I  have  ! " 

The  little  clergpnan  wiped  the  perspiration  from  his  brow, 
and  then  continued  with  a  smile. 

"It  may  seem  a  little  bold  to  reqiiest  the  Muses  and  the 
Graces  to  cleanse  out  the  Great  Quarter,  but  since  tlie  day 
when — a  God  washed  on  earth  the  feet  of  the  poor,  the 
Olympian  sisters  have  not  regarded  it  as  below  tlieir  dignity 
to  help  in  obtaining  shoes  and  stockings  for  poor  children. 
We  have  a  good  proverb,  which  says,  '  A  quick  beginning  is 


46  THE   FOUR   SISTERS, 

half  the  winning.'  Let  us  therefore  begin  the  work  this  very- 
day,  this  very  moment.  Let  us  here  at  once  form  a  Ladies' 
Society." 

"I  am  mtending  to  write  a  book  against  Ladies'  Societies!" 
said  the  Protocol  Secretary,  N.  B.  "I  have  already  collected 
the  material." 

"  Yes,  it  is  these  philanthropic  undertakings  and  societies 
which  are  the  ruin  of  us!"  said  Mr.  Von  Tackjern,  whilst  he 
buttoned  yet  another  of  his  coat-buttons. 

"We  are  never  going  on  right;  we  shall  become  a  poor- 
house  and  a  hospital!"  sighed  Mrs.  Uggla,  shaking  her  whole 
body. 

"He  might  have  waited  till  my  dinner,  then  I  could  have 
drawn  out  of  the  thing,"  thought  Mrs.  Yon  Tupplander,  with 
displeasure,  shaking  her  head. 

Various  gentlemen,  in  the  meantime,  both  elderly  and 
young,  had,  at  the  mention  of  "a  fund  for  a  good  purpose," 
immediately  put  their  hands  in  their  breast-pockets  to  feel  for 
their  memorandum-books ;  and  the  Countess  P.,  who  had  lately 
come  to  the  place,  where  her  husband  had  bought  a  large 
property,  and  who,  on  accoimt  of  her  goodness  and  unassum- 
ing manners,  made  the  world  forgive  her  beauty,  rank,  and 
wealth,  hastened,  together  with  Mimmi  Svanberg  and  a  few 
other  ladies,  to  the  good  pastor,  thanked  him,  and  begged 
him  to  "reckon  upon  them." 

The  prevailing  tone  of  the  company,  however,  remained 
hesitating  and  doubtful.  People  were  heard  to  say :  "  It  is 
not  now  the  time." — "  One  must  think  about  the  thing." — 
"  After  the  fancy-ball  one  should  have  time  to  attend  to  the 
question." — "  Now  one  must  think  about  Olympus  and  Val- 
halla, and  the  costumes." 

Yngve  Nordin  raised  his  voice  to  ask  the  decision  of  the 
company  resi)ecting  the  sale  of  the  tickets,  and  the  aj)j)ropria- 
tion  of  the  money  to  the  before-mentioned  fund. 

It  was  agreed  to  with  acclamation  ;  discussion  of  the  main 
subject  itself  was  deferred  till  another  time,  and  Major  Von 
Post's  voice  was  again  heard  summoning  gods  and  goddesses 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  4t 

to  take  their  places,  and  the  arrangement  of  the  merry  di\djii- 
ties  came  into  full  swing. 

"  Let  us  go  now,  my  little  old  man,"  whispered  the  wife  of 
the  pastor  to  her  husband,  who  was  again  wdping  his  hot 
forehead.  "  We  have  at  all  events  obtained  something,  and  I 
want  to  go  home." 

"  How  ?     Are  you  ill  ?" 

"  No,  not  exactly  so.  But  I  feel  an  anxiety,  an  oppres- 
sion! You  know  that  I  feel  so  sometimes.  It  is  to  me  as  if 
the  very  floor  were  burning  under  my  feet.  By  all  means  let 
us  go !" 

"  Du-ectly,  directly !  Let  us  merely  take  leave  of  the 
hostess!"  And  the  good  married  couple  soon  disappeared 
from  the  scene  of  action,  where  all  was  now  in  a  state  of 
merry  confusion. 


48  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 


HERE  AND  THERE  ON  THE  WAY  HOME. 

*'  In  a  minute  or  two  I  will  be  with  you  again,  but  I 
must  now  accompany  papa  home!"  said  Mimmi  Svanberg 
to  her  fi-iends,  as  she  prepared  to  accompany  her  aged  father. 

In  the  hall  she  found  Ingeborg  Uggla,  waiting  with  her 
usual  patience  for  her  ill-tempered  grumbling  mothei-,  who 
was  detaining  Dr.  Hedermann,  the  principal  physician  of  the 
town ;  a  man  both  beloved  and  feared ;  beloved  for  his  skill 
and  his  benevolence,  feared  for  his  e^jigrammatic  wit,  espe- 
cially by  the  ladies,  to  whose  deceit  and  vanity  he  ascribed 
the  degenerate  state  of  the  present  generation,  and  whom 
he  therefore  continually  attacked  by  his  sarcasm.  Mrs. 
Uggla  had  seized  upon  the  doctor  just  as  he  left  the  company, 
and  ha\'ing  described  her  cramps  to  him  for  the  thirtieth 
time,  and  received  a  pi'omise  of  some  drops,  now  proceeded 
to  unburden  her  heart. 

"  Is  it  not  both  pitiable  and  laughable  at  the  same  tune 
with  all  these  schemes  ?" 

"  What  schemes,  my  gracious  lady  ?" 

"  Oh,  the  fancy-ball  and  ladies'  society !" 

"  The  ladies'  society !"  exclaimed  the  doctor :  "  the  most 
rational  proj^osition  in  the  world,  only  it  has  something 
serious  about  it.  But  it  ^vill  come  to  nothing.  It  will  be 
mere  playwork.  Ladies  have  not  time  for  such  things.  They 
have  more  serious  business  to  attend  to ;  their  dress,  their 
pleasures ;  their  worsted-work,  theu'  housekeeping  also.  I 
■  believe — nothing  Av-ill  come  of  it — nothing,  merely  amusement, 
beUeve  me.  Good-night,  ladies !  Much  pleasure  at  the  fancy- 
ball,  and — many  catarrhs  and  pleurisies  after  it ; — for  that's 
generall}'  the  way !     Good-night ! " 


THE    FOUR   SISTERS.  49 

Mimmi  Svanberg  laughed.  "  The  good  doctor,"  she  said, 
"  he  has  his  fixed  idea !  I  wish  we  could  cure  him." 

"  He  hates  women,"  said  Ingeborg,  with  a  sigh,  the  depth 
of  which,  together  with  the  expression  of  her  eye,  and  her 
paleness,  Avere  remarked  by  Mimmi  Svanberg,  and  strengthened 
her  in  the  idea  which  she  had  long  entertained,  that  a  deep, 
but  unrequited  sentiment  attached  Ingeborg  to  the  eccentric, 
though  really  amiable  and  universally  esteemed  physician. 

"  He  is  a  rational  man,"  said  Mrs.  Uggla,  "  because  he 
believes  that  everything  in  the  world  gets  worse  and  worse." 

"  But  we,  with  our  societies,  think  of  making  everything 
better  and  better !  "  said  Mimmi  cheerfully ;  "  and  I  calculate 
upon  Ingeborg  as  a  member  of  that  which  we  are  about  to 
estabhsh." 

"  Then  she  will  certainly  never  get  married,"  sighed  Mrs. 
Uggla.  "  These  public  societies,  or  unions,  are  altogether  direct 
hindrances  to  private  unions." 

"  I  don't  believe  so,"  said  Mimmi ;  "  but  if  they  sliould 
help  us  to  become  more  active  and  happy  human  beings  than 
hitherto  mthout  marriage,  then,  really,  there  would  be 
nothing  to  complain  of.     What  do  you  say,  Ingeborg  ?  " 

"I  acknowledge,"  said  Ingeborg,  not  without  emotion, 
"  that  I  consider  a  happy  marriage  as  the  happiest  of  all 
unions,  and  the  greatest  happiness  upon  earth ;  but,  if  this 
cannot  be  obtained,  it  is  then  desirable  to  employ  one's  hfe 
and  one's  energies  in  another  direction.  And  in  this  way 
ladies'  societies  may  be  very  useful  to  those,  who,  Uke  myself, 
are  too  bashful  or  are  not  active  enough  to  undertake  any  thmg 
upon  then'  own  responsibility.  Social  life,"  added  she,  in  a 
lower  voice,  as  she  stealthily  wiped  away  a  tear,  "  seema 
emptier  and  emptier  the  older  one  grows ;  one  laughs  and 
chatters  and  looks  as  if  one  were  amused,  but — sorrow  often 
sits  at  the  heart.  Happy  they  who  haA  e  a  good  home,  and 
some  one  there  to  live  for  !  " 

"  Oh,  yes !  "  said  Mimmi,  with  a  glance  of  tenderness  at 
her  old  father ;  and  then,  Avith  heartfelt  sympathy,  she  watched 
lueceborsr  enter  her  own  room  with  her  mother,  whose  last 
3 


50  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

mxitterings    were    heard    to    be    something    about   "  stupiil 
schemes,"  and  "  Sodom  and  Gomorrah." 

"  Ingeborg  must  come  to  see  us  ;  it  must  be  made  pleasanter 
for  Ingeborg,"  whispered  Mimmi  silently  to  herself.  "  But, 
how  is  this?"  continued  she  aloud;  " ai-e  not  our  old  pasto? 
and  his  wife  standing  there  on  the  bridge  and  looking  at  the 
house  where  we  have  been  this  evening,  as  if  they  had  left 
something  behind  them  ?  Good  evening,  my  friends,  what  is 
going  on  now  ?  What  are  you  contemplating  in  the  new 
moon  ?  " 

"I  am  looking  back  to  the  home  of  my  childhood,  to  the 
Dufvas'  house,"  said  the  pastor's  wife.  "  I  know  not  why, 
but  it  seems  to  me  as  if  I  should  never  more  behold  it.  Just 
here,  on  this  bridge,  there  came  such  an  extraordinary  uneasi- 
ness over  me,  and  I  could  not  help  turning  round.  How 
splendid  and  gay  it  looks,  with  lights  in  all  the  windows." 

"  If  it  does  not  befal  our  dear  lady  as  it  befel  Lot's  wife ! " 
said  Mimmi,  jokingly.  "  We  now  go  part  of  the  way  home 
together,  and  our  road  lies  past  the  Great  Quarter,  where  I 
have  business  with  little  Mina's  mother.  I  cannot  tell  you^ 
sir,"  said  she,  addressing  the  clergyman,  "  how  glad  I  should  be 
to  get  that  child  out  of  that  Great  Rubbish  Quarter.  What 
do  >  ou  say  ?  shall  we  all  go  and  pay  a  visit  there  this  evening, 
in  this  beautiful  moonlight  ?  " 

"But,  my  dear  Mimmi,"  said  the  pastor,  somewhat 
alarmed,  "you  don't  remember  that  it  is  late,  and  that,  in 
the  moonlight,  one  may  happen  to  see  things  in  the  Great 
Rubbish  Quarter,  which  are  not  the  most  edifyuig  in  the 
world !" 

"  Oh,  nothing  that  we  need  trouble  ourselves  about ;  at  all 
events,  not  in  the  room  which  Mrs.  Granberg  inhabits,"  an- 
swered Munmi,  laughing;  "and  besides,  we  are  a  large 
party  altogether.  I  should  just  like  to  see  how  the  Great 
Quarter  looks  in  the  moonlight.  Perhaj^s  we  shall  not  have 
many  opportunities  of  seeing  it  much  longer,  as  it  is  con- 
demned by  the  public.  But  where  in  the  world  are  all  the 
old  drunken  women  to  go  to,  and  where  many  of  the  sober 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  51 

ones  too,  who  live  there  with  their  children  ?  We  must,  dear 
pastor,  build  some  comfortable  dwellings  for  the  more  respec- 
table classes  of  the  poor !" 

"  Yes,  yes !  everything  in  regular  course ;  if  we  can  only 
do  it !  You  are  so  terribly  energetic,  dear  Mimmi,  and  my 
convenience,  you  see,  requires  time  !" 

"  Your  convenience,"  said  Mimmi,  laughing,  "  may  take  ita 
time  if  we  only  may  make  a  beginning.  And  in  the  first 
place,  begin  with  sweeping  clean  the  Rubbish  Quarter.  It 
was  a  good  idea,  just  this  very  evening,  to  propose  the 
Ladies'  Society !  When  people  have  settled  down  again  quietly 
after  the  fancy-ball  they  will  have  time  enough  to  think  of 
more  serious  things.  I  hope  we  shall  be  able  to  get  some 
good  fellow-laborers.  I  have  been  speaking  to  Ingeborg 
Uggla,  and  have  hopes  of  Hertha  Falk.  What  a  pity  it  is 
that  she  was  not  in  the  groups  this  evening,  she  would  have 
made  such  a  magnificent  ISTorna  or  Yalkyria  !" 

"  Yes,"  said  the  pastoi"'s  wife,  "  only  too  gloomy.  It  is 
wonderful  how  that  girl  of  late  has  grown  dark  and  plain.  I 
fancied  that  when  she  grew  up  she  would  be  good-looking. 
But  now  she  always  looks  as  if  she  were  in  an  ill-humor.  The 
second  sister  we  never  see  now  in  company.  It  is  said  that 
she  is  greatly  out  of  health.  At  one  time  there  was  a  talk 
about  her  being  married ;  but  the  father,  people  say,  was 
opposed  to  the  match." 

"  Poor  girls !"  said  Mimmi,  now  quite  seriously,  "  they  are 
certainly  not  happy  at  home.  Their  aunt  was  very  severe  to 
them  while  she  lived,  and  the  old  man,  people  say,  is  bcth 
avaricious  and  cross.  Ever  since  that  afiair  in  the  family  they 
have  almost  entirely  ceased  to  have  intercourse  with  other 
people.  The  girls,  nevertheless,  are  noble  and  good,  espe- 
cially Hertha,  although  she  is  a  little  peculiar,  a  little  odd ; 
but  one  seldom  sees  them,  and  they  are  very  much  attached 
to  each  other.  They  have  also  a  relation,  a  young  man  who 
lives  in  the  family,  and  who  is,  I  fancy,  a  little  insane.  In 
a  word,  there  is  a  plentiful  growth  of  wormwood  in  that 
house." 


52  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

"  But  now,  see,  wo  are  at  the  Great  Quarter.  Now  light 
your  lanthorn,  good  Jacob,  because  the  moon  does  not  light 
the  steps  of  the  Quarter,  and  we  must  not  break  our  legs  if 
we  can  help  it !" 

The  clergyman's  servant,  the  respectable  Jacob,  who  at- 
tended his  master  and  mistress,  did  as  he  was  desii'ed,  and 
they  ascended  the  steps.  Professor  Methodius  endeavoring  the 
while  to  initiate  the  clergyman  into  the  first  principles  of  his 
system  for  the  improvement  of  society,  to  which  the  latter 
listened  without  replying  a  word. 

The  narrow  wooden  steps  led  to  a  landing,  on  which  were 
several  doors.  Mimmi  opened  one  of  these,  as  an  old  acquain- 
tance, and  the  party  entered  into  a  large,  long  room,  in  wliich 
no  less  than  six  families  resided,  one  in  each  corner,  and  two 
in  the  middle.  The  room  was  lighted  by  the  moon  and  one 
single  small  tallow  candle,  before  which  a  middle-aged  woman 
sat  on  a  broken  stool,  mending  old  clothes ;  upon  a  bench 
near  her  sat  two  children  busy  sorting  rags.  The  boy  was  a 
handsome,  well-grown  child ;  the  girl,  whom  Mimmi  called 
Mina,  had  nothmg  remarkable  about  her,  except  a  pair  of 
bright  blue  eyes,  which  seemed  to  look  loviugly  and  gladly 
forth  from  a  sickly,  pale,  and  meagre  countenan^-e.  No  one 
could  have  imagined,  from  her  expression,  that  her  legs  and 
feet  were  withered,  and  that  she  was  compelled  always  to 
remain  in  one  place,  or  to  move  herself  along  upon  her 
knees. 

"  That  is  our  best  little  girl  in  the  infant  school,"  said  Mimmi 
Svanberg,  in  an  under  tone  to  the  clergyman  ;  "  and  she  has 
a  voice  which  makes  it  a  joy  to  hear  her.  Besides,  she  is  such 
a  good  and  contented  child.  When  any  of  the  other  poor 
children  have  food  in  the  school  she  never  begs  any  of  ity  her 
large  eyes  only  look  so  beseechingly  that  it  really  goes  to  my 
heart  when  there  is  not  sufficient  for  her  to  have  some,  or  when 
it  is  not  her  turn,  for  it  is  a  certainty  that  she  gets  no  dinner 

at  home.     The  mother Good  evening,  Mrs.  Granberg,  you 

see  that  I  have  not  forgotten  you,  and  you  shall  have  the  boots 
either  to-morrow  morning  or  the  morning  after,  so  that  you 


THE    FOUR    SISTERS  53 

can  then  sit  out  iia  the  market  to  sell  your  things  without  your 
feet  being  fi-czen ;  thank  you,  thank  you,  Mrs.  Granberg. 
Here  is  oui-  pastor  come  to  see  you,  and  ^yould  Uke  to  know 
how  you  manage  to  provide  for  yourself  and  your  children. 
Just  teU  him  how  you  contrive." 

Poor  Mrs.  Granberg,  whose  eyes  sparkled  with  gratitude  in 
her  pale,  emaciated  countenance,  said  humbly, — "How  good 
you  are  to  inquire  after  a  poor  creature  like  me !  " 

She  seemed  embarrassed,  and  it  was  only  after  she  had  heard 
the  familiar  remarks  of  the  pastor's  wife  about  health  and  sick- 
ness, &c,,  that  she  by  degrees  became  more  communicative. 

"  All,"  said  she,  then,  "  how  fortunate  they  are  who  do  not 
know  what  sickness  is,  and  how  it  deprives  one  of  one's  power ! 
Many  a  time  have  I  cried  because  I  was  not  able  to  work  and 
earn  a  bit  of  bread  for  me  and  my  children,  as  I  used  former- 
ly ;  but  that  has  not  been  the  case  for  some  years.  One  trou- 
ble I  have  that  I  shall  carry  with  me  to  the  grave,  and  that  I 
got  before  the  girl  was  born.  It  was  in  the  depth  of  winter, 
and  we  lived  outside  the  town.  It  was  a  bitterly  cold  and 
snowy  winter,  and  we  suffered  great  want.  Granberg  had 
been  away  for  fourteen  days,  and  I  did  not  know  where  he  was. 
For  three  whole  days  we  had  not  had  a  morsel  of  bread  nor  a 
bit  of  meat  inside  the  house.  The  child  cried ;  I  spun,  and 
when  I  got  very  hungry  and  weak  I  laid  me  do^vn  to  sleep. 
Anxiety  and  himger  soon  woke  me  again.  But  I  would  not 
weep  nor  yet  give  in,  because  of  the  child  to  which  I  should 
soon  give  birth,  and  for  its  sake  I  determined  to  keep  in  as 
good  heart  as  I  could.  I  sate  down  again  to  my  spinning- 
wheel.  At  length  I  could  bear  up  no  longer ;  I  took  my 
homespun  jacket,  the  only  thing  I  had  left  belonging  to  better 
days,  and  went  to  Fetter's  Anna,  and  asked  her  to  take  it  to 
Stenbom's  to  put  it  in  pawn,  and  bring  me  back  something  to 
eat,  for  we  could  not  go  on  famishing  any  longer. 

"  Stina  went,  and  soon  came  back  again,  with  two  cakes  of 
bread,  six-pennyworth  of  meal,  and  a  herring.  And  Ave 
cooked,  and  we  ate,  and  how  good  they  were.  But  Stma  had 
met  Granberg  as  she  was  going  out,  and  told  him  how  badly 


54  THE   FOUR   SISTERS, 

off  I  was  at  borne ;  and  he  knew  it  well  enot.gh,  and  that  was 
just  the  very  reason  that  he  kept  away  5  he  knew  that  there 
was  nothing  to  be  had. 

"  Some  days  afterwards  we  heard  that  Granberg  had  sold 
the  jacket  at  a  public-house  for  eight  rix-dollars.  But  I  knew 
nothing  about  it  of  a  certainty  before  he  came  one  day  drunk 
into  the  room,  and  threw  upon  the  floor  a  sack  which  held 
half  a  bushel  of  peas,  and  exclaimed,  '  See,  there  you  have 
your  jacket !'  I  then  understood  the  whole  thing,  there  was 
a  noise  in  my  head,  a  rending  pain  in  my  body,  and  I  fainted 
away.  After  that  little  Mina  was  born — a  poor  little  creature, 
such  as  she  is  now,  and  I  have  never  since  then  had  a  day  free 
from  pain." 

"  Poor  Mrs,  Granberg !  "  said  the  pastor's  wife  compassion- 
ately, but  in  an  undervoice,  as  she  sighed,  "  My  God !  my 
God ! » 

She  and  her  husband  then  turned  to  the  httle  girl  with  the 
bright,  cheerful  eyes.  They  asked  her,  if  it  were  not  weari- 
some to  be  always  sitting. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  replied  the  child,  "  it  would  be  a  deal  nicer  if 
I  could  run  and  jump  about,  like  the  other  children;  but  I  can 
always  amuse  myself,  as  it  is  !  " 

"  She  is  always  so  cheerful,"  said  her  mother,  \vith  a  me- 
lancholy smile,  "  she  has  been  sitting  to-day  for  a  little  while 
at  the  top  of  the  stairs,  and  heard  the  lark  sing;  and  then  her 
geranium's  coming  into  flower.  She  has  always  something  to 
be  pleased  about.  She  would  sing  all  day  long  like  a  bird,  if 
only,  poor  child,  I  could  feed  her  better.  But  since  she  has 
gone  to  the  infant  school  she  is,  for  all  that,  very  happy !  " 

"  The  Almighty  has  blessed  the  chUd  for  your  sake,  and 
he  wtII  bless  you  through  the  child !  "  said  the  pastor  with 
emotion. 

Whilst  the  good  couple  were  talking  with  Mrs,  Granberg, 
Mimmi  Svanberg  had  silently  stolen  away  into  a  corner,  where 
a  poor  woman  sufiering  from  cancer  lay  upon  a  straw  mattress. 
She  had  helped  to  lay  her  on  her  bed,  and  to  dress  her  sore. 
She  had  for  some  time  attended  her  thus  as  a  nvu'se. 


THE  FOUR  SISTERS.  65 

In  the  meantime  the  other  inhabitants  of  the  room  Aveve 
all  in  movement,  thronging  around  the  pastor  and  his  Avdfe, 
some  of  them  with  pitiful  stories,  and  some  of  them  evidently 
in  a  state  of  liquor. 

"  Xow  let  lis  go,"  said  Mimmi  Svanberg  to  her  fi-iends ; 
"  you  must  talk  another  time  vrith  the  pastor,  good  people. 
You  can  very  well  understand  that  it  is  now  too  late.  We 
must  aU  go  to  bed.     Good  night !  good  night !  " 

Once  more  in  the  street,  she  said, — 

"  Take  care  now,  dear  pastor,  that  Granberg  has  some  help 
fi'om  the  guardian  of  the  poor.  She  is  well  deser\-ing  of  it,  is 
she  not  ?  " 

"  You  artful  Mimmi !  "  said  the  pastor,  jokingly  threaten- 
ing her  with  his  cane.  "  I'll  lay  any  wager  that  you  had 
that  design  in  your  head  all  the  time,  and  fooled  me  up  those 
steps,  where  I  was  very  near  losmg  my  balance  and  falhng 
backwards,  just  on  purpose  to  accompHsh  it !  Ay,  you  are  an 
excellent  one !     Confess,  now,  that  yo^^  did  it  on  speculation ! " 

"  Yes,  that  I  did !  "  said  Mimmi,  laughing  heartily ;  "  I 
knew  that  my  good  pastor  could  not  resist,  if  he  saw  the  thing 
brought  before  his  own  eyes  ;  and  the  guardians  of  the  poor  do 
well  to  go  among  them  a  httle." 

"  Get  along  ^dth  you !  Yes,  if  he  have  anything  to  give. 
You  don't  know,  not  you,  how  he  is  beset ;  and  of  a  truth  I 
cannot  see  the  bottom  of  this  increasing  misery,  nor  tell  what 
will  be  the  end  of  it,  if  active  ladies  do  not  come  to  our  rescue, 
and  take  charge  of  poor  families  and  childi-en,  so  that  there 
may  be  some  order  and  improvement,  and  if  they  do  not  make 
us  better  acquainted  with  the  people  so  that  we  can  separate 
the  goats  fi-om  the  sheep." 

"  Yes,  that  is  indeed  exactly  what  we  will  do  vnih  our 
Ladies-societies,"  said  Mimmi  Svanberg  gaUy,  "  we  wUl  sepa- 
rate between  Mrs.  Granberg,  who  is  an  invalid  and  a  good 
woman  and  mother,  and  JVIi-s.  Bergstrom,  who  is  a  wretched 
ditto,  and  teaches  her  childi'en  to  beg  and  to  steal ;  we  will 
endeavor  to  raise  up  the  one,  and  look  after  the  other  and  her 
children.     But  then  comes  the  Protocols-secretary,  N.B.,  and 


56  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

writes  a  book  agaiust  Ladies'  societies,  and  makes  a  dead-set 
at  us." 

"  He  will  not  do  it,"  said  the  pastor,  "  or  else  I  will  write 
a  sermon  against  him  and  the  Philistines." 

"  Let  him  write,  and  let  ns  act,"  said  the  pastor's  wife,  "  that 
will  he  the  best.  Don't  forget,  dear  Mimmi,  that  yon  pro- 
mised to  come  and  help  me  to  dress  the  bride  in  the  morning. 
It  will  be  about  noon,  and  you  will  stay  and  dine  with  us." 

"  Yes,  if  I  may  only  go  away  in  the  afternoon,  for  I  pro- 
mised to  help  the  Dahlstroms  with  the  funeral,  and  after  that 
I  am  to  be  god-mother  at  Palmstjernas ;  they  have  got  such 
a  nice  little  boy — a  great  joy  in  the  family." 

"  And  now  see,  we  are  at  home.  I  shall  bring  mth  me  a 
flowering  mptle-branch  for  the  bride.  Good  night !  Don't 
forget,  dear  pastor,  poor  Granberg  and  little  Mrna." 

Ten  minutes  later,  Mimmi  Svanberg  was  with  her  father, 
who,  wrapped  in  his  large,  flowery  dressing-gown,  seated  in 
his  easy  chair,  at  his  writing-table,  absorbed  in  the  labyrinth  of 
his  system,  and  involved  m  a  cloud  of  Havanna  ambrosia,  was 
as  happy  as  any  professor  possibly  could  be,  who  saw  an  amend- 
ed and  a  happier  world  shining  through  its  fragrant  and  trans- 
parent haze.  Happy  in  his  way,  he  kissed  his  daughter,  and 
said  from  the  depths  of  his  heart,  "  You  are  my  own  child, 
that  you  are — you  take  after  your  father — you  desire  to  make 
your  feUow-creatures  happy.  If  you  had  only  a  method.  But 
you  are  deficient  in  method,  my  child.  Well,  weU,  every  bird 
sings  according  to  his  bill,  and  every  one  has  his  own  way." 

"And  all  ways  lead  to  Rome,"  said  Mimmi,  laughing.  "  And 
there  we  shall  certainly  meet,  papa,  dear,  if  not  before.  And 
now  I  must  return  for  a  short  time  to  the Dufvas'  to  make  my 
appearance  as  PaxDomestica,  with  a  great  broom  in  my  hand, 
to  endanger  people's  domestic  peace.  That  "wall  make  a  sen- 
sation !     But  I  shall  see  papa  yet  again  before  morning." 

We  must  now  go  back  an  hour  of  time  in  the  evening,  and 
accompany  Hertha  and  Aunt  Petronella,  or  Nella,  on  their 
way  home  from  the  evening  party ;  Aunt  Nella  keeping  up 
an  incessant  patter  of  small  talk  in  this  style  : 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 


5t 


"  To  tliiiik  that  you  will  never  learn  to  be  prudent  and  to 
act  and  talk  like  other  people  !" 

"  I  don't  wish  to  be  like  other  people,"  said  Hertha. 

"  Yes,  that  is  just  the  misfortune.  What  can  be  the  use  of 
being  different  to  everybody  else  ?  What  can  be  the  advan- 
tage of  saying  everything  that  one  thinks,  as  if  one  was  in  le 
Palais  de  la  Verite  ?  It  only  vexes  people  and  leads  to  anger. 
You'll  be  gettmg  a  lawsuit  on  your  shoulders,  just  as  I  have 
for  my  honesty's  sake ;  I  msh  that  you  would  take  warning 
by  my  example.  Then  you  might  escape  all  the  entanglement 
that  I  am  involved  in,  and  that  everlasting  waiting,  like  me, 
for  a  siunmons."  Here  Aunt  Nella  stopped,  because  Hertha 
stopped  as  she  said, 

"  I  must  go  up  to  Amalia  for  a  moment." 

"  To  Amaha  1"  exclaimed  Aunt  Nella,  horrified,  "  and  you 
know  that  the  Director  has  forbidden  any  of  us  to  have  inter- 
course with  her !" 

"  Nevertheless,  I  must  see  her  this  evening ;  I  have  some 
work  for  her,  and  she  needs  it.  Go  quietly  onward,  dear 
aunt,  I  will  soon  overtake  you." 

"  No,  ah,  no ;  that  I  dare  not — dare  not  go  along  the  street 
alone  at  this  time  of  night,  no.  I  would  rather  than  that  go 
up  with  you  to  her,  if  you  must  go ;  but " 

Hertha  had  already  gone  into  the  house  and  knocked  softly 
upon  the  door  of  a  room,  within  which  a  famt  light  had  been 
seen  in  the  street,  shining  through  a  curtained  window.  After 
knocking  she  said  softly,  "  It  is  I,  Amalia ;  open  the  door." 

"I'll  not  go  in,"  said  Aunt  Petronella,  angrily  ;  "I'll  neither 
compromise  nor  involve  myself,  by  going  to  such — " 

The  door  opened,  and  Hertha  entered.  It  was  a  young 
woman  of  fine  figure,  and  even  of  an  agreeable  appearance, 
who  opened  the  door ;  but  her  eyes  seemed  heavy  and  red, 
and  a  bitter  expression  gloomed  the  whole  countenance. 

"You  come,  nevertheless,  Hertha,"  said  she,  with  emotion. 
"  Yon  do  not  forget  me." 

"  No,  never  ;  see,  there  is  some  work,  Amafia,  at  least  for 
a  week ;  you  will  be  well  paid.    It  is  for  Eva  Dufva ;  and 


'53  THE  FOUR  SISTERS. 

there  is  some  bread  and  some  cake.  It  was  given  me ;  it  ia 
mine,  and  you  can  take  it  without  hesitation.  You  have  cer- 
tainly had  nothing  to  eat  to-day." 

"  No ;  but  that  does  not  mattei*.  I  have  had  food  for  the 
poor  little  fellow ;  it  would  have  been  harder  to  have  been 
without  work.  Then  one's  heart  gets  so  heavy,  and  one  is  so 
sad.    But  now — God  bless  you,  Hertha !" 

It  was  a  little  poverty-stricken  room  in  which  tliis  conversa- 
tion took  place.  All  'wdthin  it,  however,  was  neat  and  well 
kept ;  beside  the  bed  stood  n,  cradle,  in  Avhich  lay  a  sleeping 
child.     Hertha  approached  the  cradle,  whilst  she  said, 

"  If  I  could  do  all  for  you  that  I  would,  AmaHa,  you  should 
never  either  want  work  or  bread ;  but  I  am  able  to  do  so 
little." 

"  God  bless  you  for  your  good-wiU,  and  for  never  upbraid- 
ing or  despising  me,  as  others  do.  Oh !  it  is  so  bitter ;  so 
very,  very  bitter,  to  be  despised,  and  to  know  that  one  de- 
serves it.  When  I  think  of  what  I  was,  and  what  I  might  have 
been,  it  almost  drives  me  mad." 

"  Your  fault  is  small,  Amalia,  m  comparison  with  his,  who 
misled  you  and  deceived  you.  You  loved  him,  but  he  did 
not  love  you." 

"  Yes,  if  I  had  loved  him  much^  Hertha,  then  I  would  have 
excused  myself  more  ;  but  I  only  loved  him  sufficiently  to  be 

easily weak ;  if  I  had  only  had  somebody  or  something  to 

Btrengthen  me !  It  was  levity,  curiosity,  youthful  impulses 
which  made  me  vmfortunate ;  it  was  the  want  of  somethuig 
better  to  fix  my  feelings,  my  thoughts  upon.  My  heart  was 
full,  my  life  so  poor,  my  brain  and  my  future  so  empty ;  I 
wished  to  experience  the  feeUngs  of  life,  if  only  for  a  moment ; 
— All,  I  little  thought  that  I  should  have  afterwards  to  drink 
its  dregs  during  the  whole  remainder  of  my  days !  And  if 
you  had  not  sustained  me,  I  could  not  have  borne  it !" 

"  You  must  bear  it,  Amalia,"  said  Hertha,  with  sorrowful 
earnestness,  "  you  are  a  mother  :  you  must  live  and  work  for 
your  child's  sake ;  and  you  will  do  it,  I  know,  and  I  love  you 
for  it  I" 


THE    FOUR    SISTERS.  59 

"  Yes,  Hertha !  For  this  child  have  I  worked  and  starved, 
and  starved  and  worked ;  and  my  only  consolation  is  that  I 
stand  before  God  and  man  such  as  I  am  ;  that  I  have  conceal- 
ed nothmg,  evaded  nothing,  either  responsibiUty  or  penalty. 
Yes,"  she  continued,  rising  and  directing  a  fixed  gaze  on  her 
sleeping  child,  "  I  will  be  a  mother^  I  will  Uve  and  work,  so 
that  no  want  and  no  neglect  may  be  the  lot  of  my  child  ;  but 
1  feel  myself  weaker  of  late,  and — if  I  should  die!" 

"  Then  is  your  child  mine  /"  said  Hertha,  seizing  Amalia's 
hand ;  "  and  so  long  as  I  Uve  and  can  work,  it  shall  want  for 
nothing.  Of  that,  be  certain,  Amalia ;  and  if  the  world  casts 
stones  at  you,  I  will  defend  ^ou,  and  say  that  you  were  a  good 
mother ;  that  you  were  worthy  of  esteem,  because  you  had 
the  courage  to  bear  the  scorn  and  contempt  of  society  by 
keeping  your  child  with  you  and  living  for  it,  like  a  true 
mother ;  and  I  have  not  words  to  tell  you  how  I  despise  those 
who  depreciate  and  condemn  you.  I  honor  you  for  it,  Ama- 
lia ;  and  if  I  were  free  and  could " 

"I know,  I  know;  and  don't  say  any  more.  I  cannot  tell 
you  how  it  consoles,  how  it  strengthens  me,  that  you  ajjprove 
of  my  conduct  in  this  respect.  It  "«dll  give  me  new  courage 
to  live  and  suffer  and  to  resist  temptations;  for  oh,  this  soli- 
tude and  want  of  occupation  are  terrible !  Hertha,  do  not  for- 
sake me ! " 

"Never!"  replied  Hertha,  and  pressed  Amalia's  hand  as 
she  added,  "  I  will  come  again  very  soon ;  but  I  must  go  now. 
I  hear  aunt  coughing,  and  my  father  expects  me.  But, 
Amalia,  expect  me  soon  again ! " 

Hertha  found  Aunt  Nella,  who  was  waiting  in  the  passage, 
in  a  very  excited  state. 

"You  will  compromise  both  yourself  and  me,"  said  she, 
angrily,  "what  will  peoj^le  think,  what  will  people  beheve, 
from  such  visits,  at  this  time  of  night  ?  It  will  biing  me  into 
a  thousand  difficulties.  Besides,  it  has  kept  us  so  long,  and 
the  Director  will  be  so  very  cross!  And  Heaven  knows 
what  new  accusations  my  enemies  may  advance  against  me 
when  the  cause  comes  to  be  heard !    Oh !  oh! " 


60  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

Thus  talked  and  sighed  the  poor  lady  the  whole  way. 
Hertha  answered  not  a  word,  and  by  her  expression  no  one 
would  have  suspected  that  she  heard  a  single  syllable ;  and  the 
truth  is,  that  the  talk  about  the  enigmatical  lawsuit  brought 
about  by  one  or  more  mysterious  enemies — all  gentlemen — 
and  the  incessant  danger  in  which  Aunt  Nella  stood,  by 
reason  of  its  protracted  hearing,  had  so  often  sounded  in 
Hertha's  ears,  that  she  was  accustomed  to  hsten  to  it,  as  one 
Hstens  to  the  dissonance  of  a  barrel-organ  for  ever  playing  the 
same  piece,  with  a  certain  submissive  suffering,  in  expectation 
of  its  some  time  ceasing. 

It  was  an  evening  towards  the  end  of  March,  and  the 
heavens  shone  bright  with  stars  above  the  grey  ice-clad  earth. 
Hertha's  glance  was  I'aised  with  a  gloomy  expression  to  this 
brilliant  heaven,  and  then  it  fell  upon  the  frozen  ground  on 
which  she  was  walking  with  a  weary,  heavy  step.  She  seemed 
to  be  drawing  a  comparison  between  the  two,  and  to  be  think- 
ing with  the  poet  Henrik  Wergeland : 

Stars  I  if  ye  cotild  only  see 

All  earth's  silent  misery, 

Oh  1  then  in  the  heavens  nightly 

Ye  could  not  shine  forth  so  brightly  i 

Her  steps  and  Aunt  Bella's  tongue  stopped  at  the  same 
moment.    They  had  no  w  reached — 


THE   FOUR  SISTERS,  61 


THE  OLD  HOUSE. 

Reader,  has  it  not  sometimes  happened  to  thee,  as  thou 
■wert  wandering  in  our  towns,  to  cast  thine  eyes  upon  a  house 
fi'om  which  they  were  involuntarily  repelled  with  an  unplea- 
sant impression,  unless  they  became  riveted  upon  it  with  that 
kind  of  interest  which  is  produced  by  dark  mysteries  ?  The 
house  may  be  well-built,  with  its  two  or  three  stories,  and 
yet  have  a  certain  dark  and  ruinous  appearance.  It  is  flecked 
and  blotched  with  grey,  and  a  sickly  yellow-green,  wherever 
the  plaster  has  fallen  off,  or  is  damp-stricken.  No  flowering 
plants  are  to  be  seen  in  the  windows,  from  all  of  which  seems 
to  look  forth  a  something  dark  and  brooding.  The  tiles  of 
the  roof  are  also  dark,  some  broken  and  decayed,  others  moss- 
grown.  The  steps  look  as  if  nobody  gave  themselves  the 
trouble  to  sweep  them  or  keep  them  clean.  Whichever  way 
you  turn  your  eyes,  they  are  met  by  some  ill-conditioned 
feature.  There  is  a  something  dead,  a  something  divested  of 
beauty  and  of  life,  about  the  place. 

You  maybe  certain  that  many  silent  sighs  are  breathed 
forth  daily  in  such  a  house ;  many  bitter  unseen  tears  are  shed, 
and  tortured  hearts  beat,  beat  as  though  they  would  burst  the 
dark,  imprisoning  walls,  in  vain !  The  old  house  stands  there, 
hke  a  dark  mysteiy  closing  its  walls  around  the  burning  strife 
and  agony  of  the  hving  soul  from  one  ten  years'  end  to 
another,  hiding  them  from  the  eye  of  the  world.  The  pro- 
found di-ama  of  human  life  goes  on  within  it ;  the  chUd  is  born, 
brought  up,  developed,  loves,  yearns,  longs,  sufiers,  and 
withers  away.  The  old  house  speaks  not  a  word  about  it.  It 
silently  conceals  the  mysteries  of  family  life  from  the  cradle  to 
the  cofiin,  with  all  its  unspeakable  bitterness,  its  corroding 


62 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 


rust,  which  eats  into  the  heart,  as  the  old  song  says,  and  the 
world  around  has  no  idea  of  it.  It  merely  has  an  idea  that 
"wormwood  grows  in  that  house." 

At  times,  however,  these  internal  corroding  disorganiza- 
tions, these  secret  agonies,  the  measure  of  which  has  been 
heaped  up  to  over-flowing,  burst  forth,  and  then  something 
terrible  occurs.  Husband  is  murdered  by  wife,  or  wife  by 
husband,  or  child  by  the  parent,  or  an  incendiary  fire  takes 
place  which  destroys  the  old  house,  and  spreads  desolation  far 
aroimd ;  and  these  reveal,  bow  and  then,  the  dark  mysteries 
of  the  old  house  to  the  world.  Tattling  tongues  are  thrust 
forth  from  every  window ;  the  walls  talk  for  the  first  and  per- 
haps for  the  last  time.  There  is  then  an  end  of  the  old  house ; 
that  which  remains  is  a  ruin. 

Sometimes  the  house  still  remains,  but  shunned  of  all  who 
would  choose  for  themselves  a  dwelling.  For  such  houses 
are  said  to  be  haunted.  Some  uneasy  ghost  walks  there. 
But  long  before  it  arrives  at  that  stage,  the  old  house  stands 
from  one  ten  years'  end  to  another,  silent  and  dark,  as  a  moss- 
grown  graveyard,  whilst  hving  hearts  slowly  bleed  to  death 
witliin  it. 

There  are  many  such  houses  in  the  world,  though  not 
many  with  such  good  cause  as  the  old  house  before  which  we 
are  now  standing. 

In  the  lobby.  Aunt  Nella  made  a  hesitating  pause,  and  said : 

"If — perhaps — if  I  might  escaj^e  going  up  to, my  brother- 
in-law  ! — I  am  quite  sure  that  we  have  stopped  over  our 
time,  and  he  will  certainly  be  so  angry! — If  you  would 
say " 

"I  shall  say  that  you  were  tired,  and  obliged  to  rest!" 
said  Hertlia.  "Go  to  my  sisters,  aunt  dear,  and  give  my 
love  to  them.  I  will  give  a  kind  greeting  to  papa  from 
aunt !'' 

And  with  these  words  Hertha  sprung  up-stairs. 

"  Well,  if  you  think  you  can  manage  it  so ;  then — but 
where  is  she  ? — Well,  well,  if  she  ever  is  plagued  with  a  law- 
suit, as  I  am,  she  Avill  not  be  so  nimble-footed !" 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  63 

And  sighing  and  twiddling  the  strhags  of  her  reticule, 
Aunt  Nella  trotted  across  the  court  to  another  part  of  the 
house. 

Hertha  was  very  soon  obliged  to  moderate  her  pace, 
because  there  was  no  light  on  the  stau-s,  and  it  was  very 
dark.  On  the  second  flight  of  stairs  she  was  met  by  a  youth 
carrying  a  candle,  and  who  advanced  towards  her  with  agi- 
tated haste. 

"  Hertha — cousin — what  a  long  time  you  have  been  ?"  and 
the  light  of  the  small  candle,  which  was  stuck  crookedly  into 
an  old  brass  candlestick,  fell  upon  the  figure  of  a  tall,  but 
not  strong  youth,  the  mass  of  whose  dark  hair  had  a  dis- 
ordered appearance,  whilst  his  eyes,  deep-seated  under  a 
broad  but  low  forehead,  glanced  forth  with  an  unsteady, 
imcertain  gaze.  There  was  something  gloomy  and  bewildered 
in  the  whole  appearance  of  the  youth,  and  his  voice  was 
rough,  as  if  breaking,  although  he  seemed  to  be  about  twenty 
years  of  age. 

"  Have  I  been  so  very  long,  dear  Rudolph  ?"  said  Hertha 
kindly  and  calmly.     "  What  o'clock  is  it?" 

"  Certainly  twenty  minutes  past  eight.  Uncle  sits  vdih  his 
watch  in  his  hand " 

"  Give  me  the  candle,  Rudolph ;  you  drop  the  tallow 
on  the  stairs.  Let  us  go  in.  Has  it  been  a  very  tedious 
evening  ?" 

"  Most  dreadfully  tedious  !" 

"It  is  my  fault.  I  ought  not  to  have  stayed  so  long. — 
Help  me ! — Thank  you,  I'll  take  off  my  over-shoes  myself; 
but  my  cloak — thank  you,  Rudolph !  I'll  keep  my  shawl  on. 
It  is  so  cold  here ! — " 

They  stood  in  a  large  desolate  room,  lighted  merely  by  the 
thin  candle  crookedly  placed  in  the  brass  candlestick.  Hertha 
shuddered  involuntarily  as  she  cast  a  long  glance  round  the 
gloomy  room  in  which  fire  seldom  burned. 

"  Let  us  go  in  together !"  continued  she,  and  advanced  reso- 
lutely towards  a  door  on  the  left,  in  the  large  room.  As  she 
put  her  hand  on  the  lock,  she  involuntarily  paused  a  moment 


64  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

whilst  she  drew  a  deep  breatl  ;  she  tlien  opened  the  door  and 
went  in. 

Here,  in  a  frugally-furuish-rid  room,  was  merely  one  person, 
and  that  a  man.  He  sat  on  a  sofa  just  opposite  the  door, 
with  a  table  before  him,  on  which  two  candles  were  burning. 
His  feet  were  wrapped  in  flannel,  and  he  held  a  gold  watch  in 
his  hand.  There  was  was  no  possibility  of  mistaking  Avho  he 
was.  He  was  the  master  of  the  house  and  the  bugbear  of  the 
family. 

He  was  a  slender  and  rather  small  man  ;  his  features  wtre 
regular  -and  well-defined ;  his  hair,  steel-grey  and  bristly,  stood 
straight  up  from  his  high  and  commanding  forehead  ;  and  be- 
neath the  dark,  bushy  eye-brows  lay  a  p.iir  of  large,  dark-grey 
eyes,  whose  stern  and  angry  glance  was  now  fixed  upon  Hertha. 

"  You've  stayed  over  your  time  !"  said  Director  Falk,  ui  a 
fierce  voice,  to  his  daughter.  "  It  is  twenty-two  minutes  past 
eight  by  my  watch.     What  made  you  stop  so  long  ?" 

"  I  did  not  know  what  time  it  was ; — I  forgot !"  replied 
Hertha  coldly. 

"  Forgot !"  burst  forth  the  Director,  "  forgot !  Is  that  any 
excuse  ?  Ought  people  to  forget  their  duty  ?  That,  perhaps, 
you  think  nothing  of;  or  think,  perhaps,  that  it  is  beautiful, 
noble,  independent !  That  I  know  is  according  to  those  mo- 
dern theories  of  which  you  are  so  fond  ;  according  to  the  laws 
of  female  emancipation,  I  suppose,  by  which  you  will  emanci- 
pate yourself  from  obedience  to  jiarents  ?  Forgot,  indeed  ! 
One  of  these  fine  days  you'll  be  forgetting  that  you  have  a 
father,  or  that  you  have  any  duties  at  all  to  perform  towards 
him.  Forgot ! — and  you  tell  me  so  in  that  obstinate  way,  as 
if  you  had  a  right  to  demand  whatever  you  liked,  and  in 
whatever  way  you  choose,  without  any  reference  to  me.  But 
I  will  be  master  in  my  own  house !  I  will  have  obedience 

there  and  subordination  !  I'll  be  d d  a  thousand  times,  if 

I  will  bear  to  have  my  people  one  time  after  another  disre 
garding  my  orders,  and  forgetting  the  time  which  I  fix  for 
them.  I  know  what  I  will,  and  I  Avill  have  my  will !  And  I 
will  have  my  own  will  to  be  law  in  my  own  house !     J  won't 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  65 

endure  to  have  people  forgetting  wliat  I  have  said  to  them 
above  a  hundred  times.  And  more  than  a  hundred  times 
have  I  said  that  I  would  have  the  gate  locked  at  eight  o'clock 
in  the  evening,  and  I  would  not,  on  any  pretence,  have  it 
open  after  eight;  and,  therefore,  you  ought  to  he  at  home  at 
eight  precisely  every  evening :  before  eight,  or  at  eight  pre- 
cisely !     Have  you  heard  that  before  now,  or  not  ?" 

"  I  have  heard  it !"  repUed  Hertha,  as  before. 

"  Veiy  well ;  then  be  so  good  as  to  act  accordmgly,  or  I 
will  have  the  gate  locked  and  barred  every  afternoon,  and 
you  shall  not  so  easily  get  out  to  any  of  your  pleasure  parties, 
which  make  you  forget  your  duties  at  home." 

"  But  why  must  it  be  precisely  eight  o'clock  ?"  asked  the 
yoimg  man  in  a  grunting,  ill-tempered  voice. 

"  "Why  ?  you  scoundrel !  Because  I  vnll  have  it  so,  and 
that  to  the  minute.  That  is  enough,  I  hope,  or  what  next  ? 
Bah  !  What  must  you  be  mumbling  for  ?  Keep  your  foolish 
tongue  within  your  teeth,  till  people  speak  to  you  !  Don't  you 
be  meddling  m  that  which  is  no  business  of  yours.  You've 
nothing  to  say  on  the  subject!  If  you  had  not  been  my  ne- 
phew, I  would  long  since  have  turned  you  out  of  doors,  you 
good-for-nothmg,  you !  Write  and  count  a  little  you  can,  and 
that  little  you  have  learned  of  me  ;  but  sense  you  have  none, 
and  that  neither  I  nor  anybody  else  could  ever  drive  into 
you !  You  are,  and  will  remain  to  be,  a  clown  all  your  days, 
and  fit  for  nothing  but  to  eat  the  bread  of  charity !  And  if 
ever  you  mix  yourself  uj)  again  in  things  that  don't  concern 
you,  I'll — give  you  a  good  dressing !  My  feet  are  cursedly 
weak,  but  my  hands,  thank  God,  are  active  enough,  and  that 
you  shall  have  some  experience  of!  Be  silent !  I  have  not 
talked  to  you,  but  to  Hertha  !" 

"  Rudolph  is  a  good  lad  I"  said  Hertha,  with  a  flashing 
glance,  "  and  will  some  day  be  a  clever  man ;  and  able  to  pro- 
vide for  himself,  without  being  obliged  to  eat  the  bread  of 
charity.  Even  now,  he  is  very  useful  in  the  counthig- 
house !" 

"  To  whom  are  you  saying  that !"  shouted  the  Director 
4 


66  THE    FOUR    SISTERS. 

turning  to  his  daughter ;  "  are  you  going  to  teach  me  ?  Do 
you  understand  such  things  better  than  I  do  ?  Now,  really 
the  pretension  of  young  women  is  going  too  far.  One  thing, 
however,  I  will  advise  you,  and  that  is,  to  keep  to  your  spin- 
ning-wheel and  your  housekeeping  aliairs;  for  more  than  that 
neither  you  nor  any  other  woman  in  the  universe  understands. 
Thank  God,  if  they  can  understand  what  is  before  them. 
Shoemaker,  stick  to  your  last !  I  won't  aUow  any  one  to  en- 
croach upon  my  rights.  Ent  now-a-days  women  will  mix 
themselves  up  in  everything,  and  therefore  everything  goes 
wrong.  There's  such  a  deal  of  talk  about  this  genius !  and 
this  genius !  and  this  must  be  an  artist,  and  that  a  book-keep- 
er, and  that  an  author,  or  a  professor,  or  some  other  great 
thing !  Cursed  talk,  altogether !  I  wish  that  they  were  real 
kitchen-geniuses !  then  they  would  at  least  do  something  use- 
fill  in  the  world.  But  now  they  are  too  grand  for  that — Hea- 
en  help  us ! — must  Uve  for  a  higher  object,  be  fellow-citizen- 
esses,  or  some  folly  or  other !  It  provokes  me  only  to  think 
of  it :  and  so  long  as  I  live,  and  am  master  in  my  own  house, 
my  daughters  shall  not  make  a  spectacle  of  themselves  to  the 
whole  world  with  any  such  stupidity,  but  shall  attend  projjer- 
ly  each  one  to  her  own  business.  I  will  not  tolerate  any 
modern  notions  about  freedom  and  emancipation  in  my 
house." 

Thus  the  Director  continued  to  scold,  turning  towards  his 
daughter,  who,  from  the  moment  when  he  again  addressed 
her,  stood  quite  sUent,  pale  and  immovable,  her  dark  eyes  riv 
eted  upon  him  with  an  expression  of  deep  inward  suffermg 
which  sometimes  seemed  transformed  into  hatred  and  defi- 
ance. But  not  a  syllable  passed  her  jjale  hps.  Rudolph  again 
sat  down  by  the  wall,  with  his  head  drooped  upon  his  breast, 
his  usual  attitude,  and  his  now  darkly  gleaming  eyes  fixed 
alternately  upon  the  Director  and  Hertha. 

This  painful  scene  was  interrujited  by  the  old  servant, 
Anna,  who  came  in  to  say  that  supper  was  ready. 

Aunt  ZSTeUa  now  made  her  appearance,  together  with  two 
quite  young  girls  of  twelve  or  thu-teen  years  of  age.     Aimt 


THE   FOUR   STSTEUS.  Ct 

Nella  made  her  salutation  in  an  embarrassed  manner,  and 
busily  t^visted  and  twirled  her  reticule-strings.  The  girls  made 
their  curtseys  very  diffidently,  and  did  not  advance  beyond 
the  door,  when  they  saw  their  father's  angry  and  excited  ap- 
pearance. 

He  in  the  meantime  called  them  up  to  him,  and  seemed  to 
become  somewhat  mollified  whilst  he  looked  at  them;  asked 
them  some  questions,  filliped  their  noses,  and  called  them 
names,  which  made  them  blush  up  to  their  ears,  and  filled  the 
eyes  of  one  of  them  with  tears. 

Then  they  were  called  "  simpleton"  and  "  fool,"  and  "  cry- 
baby," which  caused  the  fountain  of  tears,  so  plenteous  and 
so  easily  excited  at  their  age,  to  overflow,  which  provoked  a 
fresh  ebullition  of  sneers — "What's  the  meaning  of  this? 
Cursed  sentimentality.  I'll  have  nothing  of  that  sort :  I 
won't  allow  it.  If  you  can  do  nothing  but  cry,  you  may  go 
your  way  and  amuse  yourselves  the  best  yoii  can.  Can't  your 
aimt  teach  you  something  better  than  crying?  Can't  she 
teach  you  to  be  rational  girls  and  not  simpletons  ? 

"They  are  yet  so  young,  so  sensitive,"  stammered  Aunt 
Nella. 

"  Oh,  bah,  sensitive !"  said  the  Director.  "  The  devil  take 
your  feelings  and  your  sensibility,  which  is  nothing  but  cursed 
nonsense !  It  is  so  beautiful  and  so  afiecting  to  be  so  sensi- 
tive, and  to  sit  and  sigh  and  read  novels,  and  cry  and  pout  at 
everything,  and  be  displeased  with  the  whole  world,  and  make 
themselves  unhappy  about  nothing.  But  I  will  not  have  my 
daughters  brought  up  in  this  way.  I  will  have  them  made 
useful  and  practical  human  beings,  and  not  to  live  in  dreams 
and  nonsense.  I  will  have  nothing  to  do  with  any  such 
thing.  Do  you  hear  me?  Mind,  then,  that  we  have  no 
more  grimaces.     Now  come  and  sit  down  to  table." 

Old  Anna  had  just  said  that  dishes  were  at  the  table. 

The  Director,  supported  upon  the  arm  of  the  faithfu.  old 
servant,  and  by  a  stick,  limped  out  into  the  dining-room, 
followed  by  the  others  in  silence.  Two  tallow  candles,  stand- 
ing upon  the  table,  dimly  lighted  the  large  dark  room. 


68  TITK   FOI'R   SISTERS. 

"  IIow  pleasant  it  is  to  have  light  here !"  whispered  Ru- 
clolph  to  Hertha. 

"  What's  that  ? — What  are  y^u  saying  ?"  asked  the  Direc- 
tor, turning  upon  him  a  pair  of  threatening  eyes.  Rudolph 
cowered  before  them,  as  it  were,  and  was  silent. 

"I  beheve  that  you'll  be  Uvely  enough!"  said  the  Director; 
"  and — there's  that  for  you !  Be  less  nimble  with  your 
tongue,  and  have  more  sense  another  time." 

And  Rudolph  received  a  blo\r  on  the  cheek,  which  made  a 
buzzing  in  his  ears.  Hertha's  eyes  flashed  fire  at  this,  and 
Aunt  Nella  began  to  cry. 

'■•Come,  come,  no  nonsense!"  said  the  Director;  "sit 
doTvni  to  table.     Where  is  Alma,  why  does  not  she  come  up  ?"  ^ 

"  She  is  not  well ;  she  is  gone  to  bed,'*  repUed  Aunt  Nella,   ^ 
who  tried  to  swallow  her  tears  in  a  glass  of  beer  posset. 

"  Cursed  nonsense !"  mumbled  the  Director  again ;  but  as 
when  the  thunderbolt  has  fallen  the  storm  gradually  abates, 
so  now  the  Director's  ill-humor  seemed  to  have  discharged 
itself,  and  a  certain  depression  took  its  j^lace.  He  seemed  as 
if  he  wished  to  dissipate  it  by  talldng  on  indifferent  subjects, 
but  he  received  either  monosyllabic  replies,  or  no  reply  at  all, 
if  his  remarks  were  not  put  in  the  form  of  questions.  Tlie 
frugal  meal  was  veiy  soon  ended;  no  one  seemed  to  have 
enjoyed  it,  excepting  Rudolph,  who  ate  ravenously,  and  the 
Director,  who  seemed  to  take  his  usual  basin  of  wine-gruel 
with  his  usual  appetite. 

When  they  all  rose  from  table,  the  Director  said  a  short 
"  Good  night "  to  Aunt  Nella,  who  curtsied,  twisting  the 
whUe  the  strings  of  her  reticule,  and  to  the  little  girls,  who 
went  forward  and  kissed  their  father's  hand,  while  they 
"  thanked  him  for  a  good  meal,"  and  said  "good  night."  His 
glance  rested  gloomily  and  joylessly  upon  the  children,  who 
seemed  to  wish  to  get  away. 

"  Oh,  how  unbearable  it  is  here,"  whispered  the  spirited 
little  Martha  to  her  sister  Maria ;  "  I  would  positively  marry 
at  night  if  I  were  only  sure  of  wakmg  a  widow  the  next 
morning." 


THE    FOUR    SISTKRS.  69 

"  Hush !  hush !  don't  talk  so,"  admonished  Aunt  Nella,  aa 
she  prepared  to  leave  the  room  with  the  children.  Hertha 
and  Rudolph  had  already  accompan?bd  the  Director. 

"  Set  out  the  table  and  give  me  the  cards,"  said  he. 

Rudolph  brought  a  roimd  table  which  he  placed  before  the 
sofa,  and  Hertha  laid  upon  it  a  well-worn  pack  of  cards,  and 
they  sat  down  to  a  three-handed  game.  A  more  lifeless  and 
joyless  card  party  could  hardly  be  conceived.  Hertha  played 
mechanically ;  she  was  very  pale,  and  spoke  coldly  and  with 
constraint  the  words  which  the  game  required.  Rudolph, 
again,  made  continual  mistakes,  which  gave  the  Director 
occasion  to  be  almost  continually  scolding  him.  Excej)ting  in 
this  way,  not  a  word  was  spoken.  They  did  not  play  for 
money.  The  Du'ector  seemed  pleased  with  winning  the  game, 
which  he  almost  always  did,  because  the  others  played  ill  or 
without  interest.  Thus  were  spent  two  hours.  The  Director 
then  looked  at  his  watch  and  said,  "  It  is  now  eleven,  we  may 
close." 

Rudolph  and  Hei'tha  silently  pushed  away  their  chairs, 
carried  away  the  table,  and  put  the  cards  aside. 

"  Good  night,  Rudolph ;  you  can  go  to  bed,"  said  the 
Director  coldly.     "  Hertha,  stay,  I  wish  to  speak  to  you," 

Rudolph  bowed  sullenly  and  left  the  room,  after  he  had 
cast  a  lingering  glance  at  Hertha. 

Father  and  daughter  were  now  alone ;  there  was  a  deep 
silence,  each  seemed  to  wait  for  the  other  to  speak  fii-st.  At 
length  the  Director  said : — 

"  Hertha,  you  have  failed  in  duty  to  your  father.  Do  you 
not  think  you  should  beg  his  pardon  ?  " 

Hertha  made  no  reply.  Her  heart  was  full  of  stonny  feel- 
ings and  bitter  words.  She  was  afraid  of  speaking  lest  she 
should  say  too  much.  The  Director  continued  in  a  milder 
voice : 

"I  desire  nothing  but  the  best  interests  of  ray  children,  I 
fulfil  my  duty  to  them,  and  I  desire  only  that  they  should 
fulfil  theirs  towards  me — should  show  me  obedience  and  grati- 
tude." 


70  TUE    FOUR    SISTERS. 

Again  there  was  no  reply.  Astonished  at  Hertha's  silence, 
the  Director  looked  inquiringly  at  her,  endeavoring  to  inter- 
pret the  peculiar  expression  of  her  countenance,  in  the  same 
way  that  we  puzzle  over  a  difficult  riddle.  Many  thoughts 
and  feelings  seemed  to  be  working  there ;  some  seemed  wish- 
ful to  find  expression,  but  were  opposed  by  others,  which  said, 
"  It  is  not  worth  while ;  he  cannot,  he  will  not  understand." 
In  the  meantime  there  was  something  in  the  milder  voice  and 
countenance  of  her  father,  together  with  his  suffering  state, 
which  seemed  to  touch  her  deeply,  and  she  merely  said  with 
melancholy  seriousness,  as  she  bowed  her  head, 

"  Good  night,  my  father." 

The  Director  looked  at  her  and  extended  his  hand  for  her 
to  kiss,  for  it  was  the  custom  in  his  house,  morning,  noon,  and 
evening,  for  the  children  to  kiss  the  hand  of  their  father.  For 
some  years,  however,  this  old  usage  of  childish  reverence  had 
become  oppressive  to  Hei'tha,  because  her  heart  was  not  in  it, 
and  this  evening  it  was  an  impossibility  to  her.  She  repeated 
merely  in  a  constrained  voice,  "  Good  night,"  bowed  her  head 
as  a  parting  salutation,  and  went  out,  saying,  "  I  will  send  in 
Anna." 

The  outstretched  hand  remained  thus  for  a  moment,  then 
it  was  clenched  convulsively ;  a  dark,  angry  red  flushed  the 
pale  countenance  of  the  Director,  and  he  exclaimed  : — 

"  The  devil  take  their  notions  of  emancipation." 

He  sat  silently  staring  with  the  expression  of  an  enraged 
beast  until  the  faithful  old  servant,  Anna,  came  in  to  help  her 
master  to  his  bed. 

She  had  lived  in  the  family  more  then  twenty  years,  was 
accustomed  to  speak  her  thoughts,  and  the  Director  listened 
to  her  more  than  to  any  one  else  in  the  house  ;  he  was  in  the 
habit  of  speaking  more  confidentially  with  her  than  with  any 
other  being  in  the  world.  Now,  therefore,  from  the  necessity 
of  unburdening  his  heart  after  the  scene  which  had  just 
,  occurred,  he  began  : — 

"Things  are  getting  madder  and  madder  than  ever.ui  this 
world." 


THE    FOlll    Si:>Ti:RS.  1 1 

"Yes,  yes;  but — "  said  Anna,  who  was  somewhat  of  a  mis- 
anthrope, "the  older  people  get,  the  worse  they  get." 

"That  I  don't  know,"  said  the  Du'ector  angrily,  "but  tliia 
I  do  know,  that  young  girls  get  more  and  more  unreasonable 
in  their  demands,  and  more  and  more  disobedient  and  un- 
grateful to  their  fathers." 

"Yes,  yes,  but,  poor  things, — their  lives  are  not  so  very 
amusing  either." 

"Amusing! — Why  should  they  be  amusing?  It  is  better 
for  young  girls  that  their  lives  should  be  dull  than  amusing. 
It  teaches  them  to  be  serious,  industrious,  and  domestic." 

"  Yes,  but  I  don't  think  it  would  do  any  great  harm  if  they 
had  a  httle  amusement  at  the  same  time.  I  don't  mean  any 
giddy  sort  of  amusement,  but  something  pleasant  to  think 
about  and  wish  for,  and  which  Avould  enhven  them,  and  give 
them  a  sort  of  outlet.  For  life  is  very  heavy,  and  very  narrow 
sometimes  for  us  women." 

"  Oh,  nonsense.  What  do  you  want  ?  What  do  my 
daughters  want?  Have  they  not  everything  which  they 
require — whether  of  clothing  or  of  food  ?  " 

"Yes,  certainly — yes,  certainly.  But  look  you.  Director, 
this  is  my  way  of  thinking, — young  people  must  have  some- 
thing to  live  for;  something  which  is  their  own,  and  which 
they  can  improve  ;  yes,  something  certainly  to  think  about 
and  occupy  themselves  with  for  the  future.  Look  you,  I  am 
only  a  poor  woman-servant,  but  I  have  my  own  certain  oc- 
cupation for  every  day,  and  my  own  certain  wages  for  every 
year,  which  I  can  do  just  as  I  like  with  ;  some  of  it  I  can  put 
every  year  into  the  Savings'  Bank  for  my  old  age,  or  else  to 
help  a  friend.  And  I  believe  that  every  human  being  ought 
to  have  his  own,  and  liberty  to  do  with  it  as  he  likes  ;  because 
that  leads  to  peace  and  contentment." 

"You  are  right,  inasmuch  as  it  applies  to  those  who  have 
attained  to  mature  years,  and  can  properly  take  care  of  them- 
selves, and  that  which  belongs  to  them,"  said  the  Director. 
"  But  young  girls  cannot  do  that.  They  are  mere  children. 
If  they  had  anj-thing  of  their  o^vn,  and  Uberty  to  do  what  they 


t2  THE   FOUR   SISTER-. 

liked  with  it,  there  Avould  soon  be  an  end  of  it.  Precisely 
because  I  wish  my  girls  to  have  some  time  something  to  ma- 
nage, and  live  upon,  and  not  be  dependent  on  others  when  they 
get  old,  precisely  for  this  reason  must  I  manage  and  save  for 
them.  And  so  I  shall  contmue  to  do  even  if  they  are  un- 
grateful. I  know,  however,  that  one  day  they  will  be  thank- 
ful to  me." 

"Yes,  but  Director,  I  still  think  that  Mamsell  Alma  and 
Mamsell  Hertha  ai*e  old  enough  and  sensible  enough  to  be 
able  to  manage  for  themselves." 

"  You  don't  understand  it.  I  know  better.  Alma  is  a 
good  girl,  but  too  weak  to  be  able  to  take  care  of  herself. 
And  Hertha  is  a  headstrong,  self-willed  girl,  who  needs  to 
remain  under  guardianship  all  her  days." 

"  Nay,  look  now,  I  say  that  the  Director  does  her  a  great 
injustice  ! "  exclaimed  Anna,  with  the  boldness  of  a  faithful 
old  servant ;  "and  her  deceased  ladyship  Hard  did  not  under- 
stand her  any  better.  But  this  I  say,  that  though  she  has  a 
head  and  a  will  of  her  own,  yet  that  she  is  really  an  uncom- 
monly clever  young  lady,  and  does  not  deserve  injustice,  and 
could  manage  both  a  toA\m  and  a  nation,  if  it  came  to  that. 
She  has  not  been  at  all  like  anybody  else  ever  since  she  was  a 
child,  and  may  be  a  little  peculiar  and  proud,  but  so  good- 
hearted  and  so  noble-minded,  so  reasonable — " 

"It  was  you  and  her  mother  who  spoiled  her  with  talking 
in  that  way,"  interrupted  the  Director.  "She  is  stubborn  and 
self-willed,  I  say,  and  needs  discipline.  It  does  not  do  for 
girls  to  have  their  o-\\^l  will  or  to  be  their  own  advisers.  And 
it  is  now,  as  it  has  been,  my  will  that  ray  daughters  shall 
direct  themselves  according  to  my  will,  and  not  say  or  do 
anythmg  which  is  contrary  to  it.  I  am  master  of  my  own 
house,  I  hope,  and  they  are  my  children,  and  that's  positive  !  If 
my  daughters  are  wise  they  will  find  it  best  to  obey  their  father." 

"  But  if  they  should  die  ?" 

"  What  do  you  mean  ? — Wiiat  are  you  talking  about  ?'* 
said  the  Director  violently,  "  why  should  they  die  ?" 

"Ay,  I  believe,  that — Mamsell  Alma  will  not  be  very  long 


'1  !IK    F(H  !l    t-I^TKI'S.  73 

in  this  world.  I  believe  that  sorrow  has  taken  very  deep  hold 
upon  her," 

"  It  is  your  foolish  fancy  and  superstitiou,"  said  the  Director, 
as  before.  "  What  is  amiss  "svith  her  ?  Is  she  not  in  every  day 
to  dinner,  the  one  day  like  another  ?     I  see  no  change  in  her." 

"But  she  does  not  come  up  in  the  evenings  any  longer,  and 
she  looks  so  deathly  of  late.  And  I  know  that  she  has  got  no 
fileep  the  greater  part  of  the  night,  ever  since " 

"  Stupid  stuff!  stupid  fancies  !"  again  interrupted  the  Direc- 
tor angrily.  "  She  has  been  somewhat  complaining  for  some 
time.  But  the  doctor  sees  her  twice  in  the  week,  and  she 
will  soon  be  better.  But  if  any  of  the  girls  complain  you 
think  directly  that  they  are  in  the  agonies  of  death.  It  is 
nothing  but  stupid  superstition !  Now  then,  help  me  into  bed, 
and  give  me  over  that  little  chest." 

Old  Anna  was  affronted  by  the  often  repeated  accusation 
of "  stupidity,"  and  said  not  another  word,  doing  only,  as  a 
machine,  that  which  her  master  desired  her.  He  now  there- 
fore dismissed  her,  saying  coldly : 

"  Good  night !  see  that  the  lire  is  carefully  taken  down  in 
the  kitchen,  and  don't  leave  till  it  is  all  black  on  the  hearth. 
Do  you  hear  ?" 

When  the  Director  was  left  alone,  he  opened,  half  sitting- 
up  in  bed,  the  little  chest  or  cash-box,  and  Ms  wrinkled  angry 
countenance  grew  brighter,  as  he  opened,  examined  ^\dth  the 
candle,  and  again  folded  together  various  small  strips  of  paper. 
After  that  he  smiled  with  satisfaction,  and  said  half  aloud  to 
himself: 

"  ISTot  so  bad !  not  so  bad !  Old  Falk  is  a  weU-to-do  man ; 
a  well-to-do  man,  a  substantial  fellow,  a  rich  man.  Ay,  ay ; 
nobody  shall  look  down  upon  him !  People  shall  take  their  hats 
off  to  him — a  rich  man !" 

And  so  saying  he  laid  the  chest  under  the  pillow,  extinguish- 
ed the  lamp,  and  turned  himself  to  sleep,  whilst  his  thoughts 
repeated  to  him,  like  a  lullaby,  "  A  rich  man !  A  rich  man  !" 

And  no  warning  voice  whispered  in  his  ear,  "  Thou  fool ! 
this  night  shall  thy  soul  be  required  fi-om  thee !" 


THE  rOlJR   SISTERS 


THE  SISTERS. 

When  Hertha  left  her  father's  chamber,  she  found  Ru- 
dolph in  the  dinmg-room,  who  stood  as  if  waiting  there,  with 
the  now  nearly  burnt-down  candle  in  his  hand.  He  advanced 
towards  her,  flourishing  the  candle  as  he  said : — 

"  Hertha,  will  you — wiU  you  ?  Say  only  a  word;  I  will  do 
whatever  you  wish !" 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?"  asked  Hertha  astonished. 

"  It  is  so  cold  here !  Don't  you  think  that  it  is  very  cold 
now  ? — cold  !  I  saw  you  shiver.  Do  you  know,  I  believe, 
that  it  never  will  get  any  better !" 

"  Go  to  bed,  Rudolph,  you'll  be  wai-m  there.  Go  to  bed, 
poor  Rudolph,  and  sleep,  and  dream  and  forget.  Good  night, 
dear  Rudolph !" 

"  I  will  light  you  down,  Hertha." 

"  Not  this  evening,  Rudolph.  I  will  light  myself  Give 
me  your  candle  for  to-night  and  let  the  moon  be  your 
lanthorn  into  your  garret,  thus  you  can  oblige  me,  Ru- 
dolph." 

"  I'll  go  with  you  for  all  that,"  said  Rudolph,  "  because 
something  might  happen  to  you  on  the  stairs !"  And  he  at- 
tempted to  I3ut  his  arm  round  her  waist. 

Hertha  pushed  him  gently  away,  and  said  in  a  determined 
manner,  "  I  will  go  alone,  RudoljA.  I  can  light  and  help  my- 
self    Good  night,  Rudolph." 

She  went,  locking  the  door  behind  her. 

Rudolph  stood  a  moment  silent  and  moody,  muttering  to 
himself — 

"  Well,  well,  she'll  have  to  fly  to  me  for  help  some  tune — 
before  she  thinks !"  and  passed  through  another  door  from  the 


Tlin   I'OVU   S'STF.RS.  T5 

dining-room,  which  led  by  a  winding  staircase  up  to  his  o"\vn 
chamber  in  the  attics. 

Hertha  went  down  two  flights  of  stau'S,  to  the  lower  story, 
and  into  the  court.  The  Director's  chamber  faced  the  street 
and  was  at  the  other  end  of  the  house. 

Hertha  entered  a  little  stone  passage,  upon  either  side  of 
which  was  a  door.  She  knocked  softly  upon  the  one  to  the 
left.     It  was  opened  by  Aunt  Petronella. 

"  Are  my  little  sisters  still  awake  ?"  asked  Hertha  softly. 

"  Hertha,  Hertha,  is  it  you  ?"  cried  the  young  fresh  voices 
from  the  inner  room.  "  Ah,  come,  come,  and  tell  us  some- 
thing about  the  ball  and  the  costumes,  Hertha." 

"  Not  this  evening,  but  in  the  morning,  my  darlings,"  said 
Hertha,  as  she  bent  over  her  sisters'  beds,  whilst  her  neck  was 
clasped  by  their  young  arms,  "  I  am  come  to  say  good  night 
to  you,  and  give  you  a  few  sweetmeats  from  the  great  enter- 
tainment at  the  Dufvas'." 

"  Thanks,  thanks,  you  dear,  naughty  Hertha !  Good  night ; 
now  dream  some  wonderful  dream  that  yovi  can  tell  us  to-mor- 
row morning  at  breakfast!" 

Hertha's  dreams  were  celebrated  in  the  family,  and  had 
constituted  for  some  years  the  most  remarkable  incidents  in 
this  secluded  family,  nay,  even  their  principal  pleasures. 

Hertha  promised  to  pay  particular  attention  to  her  dreams 
this  night.  Aunt  Nella  had  sat,  before  Hertha's  entrance  into 
the  room,  deeply  absorbed  over  a  large  portfolio,  and,  amid  a 
mass  of  letters,  scraps  of  newspapers,  patterns  of  collars  and 
needlework,  verses,  and  every  variety  of  paper-article  lying 
together  in  the  utmost  confusion,  w^as  endeavoring  to  catch 
hold  of  and  bring  together  the  ravelled  thread  of  that  threat- 
ening, mysterious  lawsuit  which  was  hanging  over  her  head. 
The  endeavor  seemed  hopeless  to  uninitiated  eyes,  but  Aunt 
Xella,  who  had  all  her  days  found  an  exquisite  pleasure  in  un- 
ravelling tangled  skeins,  seemed  not  to  have  any  doubt  about 
being  able  to  accomplish  it,  and  yet  fully  to  bring  to  light  the 
mysteriously  intriguing  enemy,  who  most  frequently  showed 
huuself  as  an  indefinite,  but  prejudiced  and  oflcnded  gentle- 


76  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

man,  whom  Aunt  Nella  in  her  youth  had  had  the  nusfortune 
to  stumble  against,  A  yarringles  stood  near  her,  upon  Avhich 
was  a  tangled  skein  of  yarn,  the  threads  from  which  had  be- 
come entangled  among  the  papers  of  the  portfolio  ;  all  seemed 
to  become  more  and  more  perplexed ;  the  old  lady,  however, 
comforted  herself  by  the  entanglement  on  the  yarringles,  in 
the  hope,  as  she  said  sUently  to  herself,  that  the  one  ravel 
might  help  the  other. 

Nor  was  it  a  bad  idea  either :  Aunt  Nella's  countenance 
and  her  law-prospects  brightened  considerably,  as  she,  with 
admirable  patience  and  even  skill,  opened  a  way  for  the  thread 
through  all  the  knots  and  the  labyrinths  of  the  skein ;  and  still, 
as  more  and  more  the  whole  was  subdued  into  order,  and  the 
winding  went  on  uninterruptedly,  and  the  skein  diminished 
on  the  yarringles,  hghter  and  brighter  became  her  state  of 
mind,  and  more  and  more  hopeful  her  thoughts  of  the  ultimate 
issue  of  the  impending  lawsuit.  When  Hertha,  therefore, 
came  in  from  her  sisters',  the  old  lady  having  laid  aside  her 
portfoUo  for  the  tangled  yarn-skein,  and  her  state  of  mind 
having  begun  to  brighten  with  the  decreasing  entanglement, 
she  said  quite  kindly  to  Hertha : 

"I  am  winding  now  to  spole  for  your  weaving,  my  dear 
Hertha  ;  and  if  you  were  but  as  industrious  as  I  am,  it  would 
soon  be  ready," 

Hertha  only  replied  "  Good  night,"  with  an  unhappy  expres- 
sion of  countenance,  and  crossed  the  passage  to  the  second 
door.  Of  this  she  had  the  key.  She  opened  it  and  went  in. 
It  was  a  large  room,  in  which  might  be  perceived  the  smell 
both  of  smoke  and  damp,  Ceilmg,  walls,  fire-place,  all  showed 
evident  want  of  repair.  There  was  but  little  furniture,  and 
that  of  the  most  homely  character ;  although  in  this,  as  in 
other  things,  the  careful  hand  of  woman  was  observable.  A 
loom  and  two  spinning-wheels  stood  in  the  room.  Its  only 
ornament  was  a  little  book-case  and  a  few  pictures,  the  work 
of  Hertha,  In  a  deep  recess  on  the  left  hand  ; — but  before  w^e 
proceed  to  this  we  will  say  a  few  words  about  the  two 
sisters  themselves,  who  had  spent  together  here  the  best  part 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  TT 

of  their  youth,  who  had  here  together  laughed,  and  together 
■wept,  loved,  and  comforted  each  other ;  spent  their  days  in 
hard  work,  and  often  lain  awake  through  the  night  to  read 
together  the  old  heroic  songs  or  history,  Hertha's  favorite 
reading,  or  novels,  which  were  Alma's ;  together  became 
enthusiastic  about  grand  ideas,  laid  out  grand  schemes,  nay 
even  poured  out  then-  warm  feelings  both  in  prose  and  verse 
(but  merely  for  each  other,  because  they  possessed  no  other 
pubUc),  and  then  seen  their  youthful  dreams  grow  dun,  and 
their  hfe  change  into — that  which  it  was  now. 

Then-  mother  died  in  giving  bii-th  to  the  youngest  of  her 
daughters.  The  two  eldest  were  then  much  younger.  The 
mother's  illness,  occasioned  in  great  measure  from  want  of 
happiness  in  her  marriage,  had  gloomed  the  childhood  of  her 
daughters.  After  her  death  their  father's  sister  came  to  take 
charge  of  the  household.  The  difterence  between  the  influence 
of  the  foi'mer  mistress  of  the  family  and  the  present,  was  hke 
that  between  a  soft,  rainy  summer,  and  a  severe  winter.  Mrs. 
Hard  was  a  lady  who  exalted  herself  for  her  love  of  truth  and 
justice,  nor  will  we  deny  her  these  qualities ;  but  she  had  not 
love,  and  therefore  her  view  of  things  was  never  entirely  true; 
she  could  never  see  the  whole  truth  in  any  object  which  she 
condemned,  and  her  judgment  was,  therefore,  neither  just  nor 
enhghtened  by  the  beneficent  light  of  reason. 

Hertha  was  thirteen  years  old  when  this  lady  came  to  live 
in  the  family ;  she  was  at  that  critical  age,  when  the  child 
awakes  from  her  slumber  and  looks  around  her  with  opened 
eyes  upon  the  world  ;  and  when  all  the  necessities  and  ques- 
tionings of  the  soul  burst  forth  thirsting  for  the  light  of 
day.  The  unusual,  and  therefore  restless  temperament  and 
faculties  of  the  child  were  misunderstood  and  misconstrued 
by  Mrs.  Hard.  She  saw  dangerous  or  altogether  improi^er 
tendencies  in  everything,  and  she  considered  that  truth  and 
justice  required  her  to  represent  to  her  lather  every  fault  or 
deficiency  in  its  blackest  color,  which  she  called  "its  true 
color,"  that  the  young  girl  might  be  punished  in  the  sever- 
est manner.     Mrs.  Hard  beheved  that  she  acted  in  this  respect 


*18  THE  FOUR   SISTERS. 

as  a  model  of  conscientiousness  and  justice.  The  deeply 
sensitive  and  enthusiastic  girl,  who  saw  her  least  mistake 
represented  as  something  monstrous ;  her  most  innocent  actions 
suspected  ;  her  best  intentions  often  misconstrued  to  the  very 
opposite ;  all  her  questionings  about  deeper  subjects  of  life 
repulsed  as  "  needless  inquiries,"  and  every  expression  of  her 
young,  aspiring  soul  sternly  repelled,  became  at  first  miserably 
unhaj^py,  almost  driven  to  despair,  and  cast  into  a  state  of 
perfectly  chaotic  darkness  as  regarded  herself,  her  fellow- 
creatures,  life,  truth — everything.  The  necessity  which  there 
■was  in  her  o^vn  soul  to  pour  forth  love  and  reverence,  and 
which  instinctively  turned  towards  those  who  were  her  natural 
guardians,  was  received  by  them  only  mth  injudicious  severity, 
and  in  a  spirit  of  worldly  wisdom.  She  thought  at  first  that 
they  must  be  right,  and  she  herself  wrong.  But  she  saw  her 
sister,  the  gentle,  and,  according  to  her  judgment,  the  almost 
saintly  Alma,  condemned  and  severely  treated  also.  At  this, 
her  naturally  strong  mind  released  itself  out  of  the  slavish 
depression  M'hich  was  otherwise  gaming  the  mastery  over  her, 
and  she  overcame  it  through  love  to  her  sister.  "  That  light," 
of  which  the  Gospel  speaks,  "  which  lights  every  man  who 
comes  into  the  world,"  difi*used  its  illuminating  beams  through 
her  own  conscience,  to  judge  and  condemn  those  who  could 
unjustly  judge  and  act  towards  that  angelic  sister.  The  hght 
within  her  own  conscience  was  strengthened  and  awoke  to  a 
still  higher  life,  by  means  of  the  rehgious  instruction  which 
she  at  this  time,  together  with  her  sister  and  the  young  jseople 
in  the  community  where  she  dwelt,  received.  And  although 
this  might  be  imperfect,  and  fettered  by  the  mere  literal 
interpretation,  as  is  generally  the  case,  and  although  even 
here  her  inquiries  respecting  difficult  dogmas  were  repulsed 
by  the  teacher  with  the  remark  that,  "  Peoj^le  must  not  ask 
questions;  that  Reason  must  be  subdued  under  the  obedience 
cf  Faith  ; "  still,  nevertheless,  her  naturally  powerful  instincts 
towards  the  highest  justice  and  the  highest  good,  obtained  by 
this  means  new  words  and  an  increased  strength.  Armed 
with  these,  she  now  turned  herself  towards  those  who  had 


THE   FOUR   STSTEI^S.  79 

endeavored  to  curb  her  and  her  sister.  She  demanded  a 
higher  standard  of  truth  and  of  justice  than  theirs.  They  did 
not  understand  her.  But,  nevertheless,  there  were  moments 
when  Mrs.  Hard  trembled  before  the  yoimg  girl,  whom  she 
wished  to  rule,  so  threatening  was  her  glance,  so  commanding 
was  her  whole  being  at  the  slightest  unjust  word  or  treatment 
where  Alma  was  concerned.  Mrs.  Hard  did  not  venture 
any  longer  to  treat  Alma  with  severity.  But  all  the  more 
from  this  very  cause,  did  she  describe  Hertha  to  her  father  as 
of  a  factious  and  self-willed  disposition ;  and  every  word  which 
she  spoke,  and  all  her  actions,  wei'e  retailed  and  represented 
to  liim  from  this  point  of  view.  And  as  she  carried  to  the 
father  the  most  exaggerated  reports  of  his  daughters,  so  did 
she  Ukewise  report  to  the  daughters  every  word  of  his  and  all 
his  denunciations  with  exaggerated  severity,  at  the  very  time 
that  she  declared  herself  to  be  endeavoring  to  mollify  him, 
and  to  be  a  peacemaker  between  them;  and,  probably,  she 
really  believed  herself  to  be  so,  because  a  great  many  people 
are  struck  with  an  extraordinary  bhndness  as  regards  them- 
selves. By  these  means  Mrs.  Hard  produced  a  gradually  in. 
creasing  bitter  misunderstanding  between  father  and  daughters. 

We  have  drawn  a  dark  pictm-e  of  family  relationships. 
Would  to  God  that  it  were  of  rare  occurrence ! 

That  which,  also,  still  more  clearly  showed  Hertha  the 
want  of  true  insight  and  justice  in  the  aunt,  as  regarded  her- 
self and  her  sister,  was  her  perfect  weakness  and  blindness 
towards  her  own  daughter  AmaUa,  a  gay  and  handsome,  but 
self-willed  young  girl,  who  was  very  much  addicted  to  pleasure. 
The  mother  approved  and  allowed  her  to  follow  her  own 
whims  and  fancies ;  let  her  amuse  herself  at  parties  ovit  of  the 
house,  where  her  Uttle  triumiDhs  were  flattering  both  to  her 
own  and  her  mother's  vanity ;  whilst  the  daughters  of  the 
f  house  w6re  compelled  to  hard  work  for  the  benefit  of  the 
family.  But  it  was  not  the  work,  in  the  meantime,  that  they 
complained  of;  it  was  the  want  of  light,  as  it  were,  in  the 
doing  of  it,  the  want  of  enjoyment,  and  any  future  advantage 
from  it.    They  did  not,  however,  complain  aloud;  for  they 


80  THE  FOUR   SISTERS. 

« 

knew  if  they  did  so  it  would  merely  lead  to  reproof  and  ser- 
monizing. 

Under  such  a  regime,  spring  up  in  young  energetic  natures, 
amid  the  best  circumstances,  a  great  revolutionary  taste,  warm 
sympathies  for  the  Poles,  the  Hungarians,  and  for  all  oppressed 
nations,  together  with  the  wish  to  fight  for  them ;  in  more 
doubtful  circumstances,  many  dark  wishes  for  which  people 
bitterly  reproach  themselves,  but  of  which  they  cannot  prevent 
the  recurrence ;  as,  for  instan'^e,  the  death  of  certain  near 
relations ;  a  fire  or  some  other  violent  accident,  or  for  anything, 
in  fact,  which  should  interrupt  the  murderous  compulsion  and 
monotony  of  daily  life. 

Fewer  heavenly  rays  of  light  penetrate  into  such  a  hell  of 
domestic  hfe  than  into  any  other  shadowy  region  of  the  earth. 
The  negroes  of  the  Slave  States  of  America  have  their  religious 
festivals,  when  they  can  give  full  play  to  their  souls  in  sermons 
and  in  songs,  and  drink  in  new  life  from  the  light  which  flows 
from  the  life  and  doctrine  of  the  Saviour,  when  they  enjoy  to- 
gether their  bUssful  communions  and  festivals.  But  in  loveless 
homes  of  the  north,  a  young  woman  lives  a  more  fettered  and 
gloomy  life  than  that  of  the  serf  and  the  slave.  It  is  not 
clothing  and  food  that  is  wanting,  neither  is  it  always  enjoy- 
ments of  a  common,  empty,  and  short-hved  kind ;  that  which 
is  wanting  is  an  atmosphere  of  life,  is  freedom,  and  a  future, 
the  bread  and  the  wine  which  give  pleasure  to  life. 

In  the  first  place  arises  in  young  girls,  under  such  circum- 
stances, the  longing  to  become  free,  in  the  only  way  which 
opens  itself  to  them,  through  marriage. 

"  I  'svill  get  married,  even  to  the  devil  himself!"  said 
Hertha,  in  her  yoimger  days ;  "  if  only  to  deliver  you,  my 
Alma,  from  this  intolerable  home  !" 

Alma,  of  a  gentler  feminine  character  than  Hertha,  would 
not  marry  any  one,  and  least  of  all  "  the  devil,"  but . 

Both  Alma  and  Hertha  were  charming  enough  to  attract 
the  attention  and  fancy  of  men  ;  but  they  went  very  seldom 
inl  o  company,  very  seldom  saw  strangers  at  home,  and  never 
young  men.     An  exception,  however,  was  made  on  behalf  of 


THE   FOUR   STSTERS.  Rl 

one  young  man,  a  relative  of  the  fjxmily,  and  of  more  than  or- 
dinarily interesting  character.  He  supplied  the  young  girla 
Avith  books,  conversed  with  them  on  subjects  which  deeply 
interested  them,  disputed  with  Hertha,  and  soon  became 
sincerely  attached  to  Alma,  as  was  she  to  him.  He  was  very 
modest,  and,  according  to  the  old  Swedish  usage,  first  asked 
the  father's  permission  before  he  declared  his  affection  for  the 
daughter.  But  he  was  rejected  by  the  father,  who  considered 
his  worldly  prospects  not  sufficiently  promising,  and  who  would 
not  give  up  Alma's  share  of  her  mother's  property,  her  just 
inheritance,  into  the  hands  of  another. 

The  severity  with  which  the  young  man's  offer  was  rejected, 
without  reference  to  Alma's  feelings,  led  him  to  suppose  that 
she  had  no  Ukmg  for  him.  Without  any  explanation  with 
her,  therefore,  he  left  the  family,  and  even  his  country. 

This  took  place  about  tliree  years  before. 

At  the  same  time  an  event  occurred  which  rendered  the 
domestic  circumstances  still  more  difficult.  The  handsome 
and  gay  Amalia,  gladly  escaping  from  her  dull  home,  paid 
frequent  visits  in  the  country  to  young  friends  gay  and  lively 
as  herself.  The  levity  of  her  behavior  here  attracted  atten- 
tion, and  Mrs.  Hard  was  warned;  she  received  these  warnings 
with  proud  disdam,  yet  nevertheless  recalled  her  daughter 
home — but  too  late.  The  thoughtless  girl  was — a  fallen  woman : 
she  acknowledged  it,  but  obstinately  refused  to  mention  the 
name  of  him  Avho  had  brought  her  to  shame,  and  reproached 
her  mother  for  having,  through  the  education  she  had  given 
her,  been  the  cause  of  her  misfortune.  This,  together  with 
the  sorrow  and  disgrace,  were  more  than  the  j^roud,  yet  at  the 
same  time  morally  weak,  w^oman  could  bear.  It  broke  her 
do^Ti  at  once,  and  she  did  not  long  survive  it.  Amalia  had,  in 
the  meantime,  removed  to  a  distance,  and  it  was  not  until  two 
years  afterwards  that  she  returned,  under  an  assumed  nairi(\ 
and  in  the  deepest  poverty,  to  the  town  where  she  spent:  a 
portion  of  her  giddy  youth. 

j\[rs.  Hard's  death  freed  the  young  daughters  of  the  house 
from  an  incessant  oversight  in  which  there  was  no  love  ;  but, 
5 


82  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

as  their  father's  temper  after  this  occurrence  became  extremely 
irritable  and  suspicious,  liis  daughters'  lives  were,  in  some  re- 
spects, still  more  wretched  than  before.  He  seemed  to  become 
every  day  more  and  more  niggardly  and  petulant,  and  more 
and  more  opposed  to  all  freedom  and  cheerfulness  within  the 
family.  Aimt  IS'ella  had  always  been  what  the  Director  himself 
called  her,  a  cypher  in  the  house,  as  regarded  everything  ex- 
cepting the  care  which  she  took  of  the  younger  children.  She 
had  taken  charge  of  them  from  the  time  when  they  were  born, 
and  had  always  been  to  them  a  good  motherly  caretaker  and 
teacher  of  the  first  rudiments.  But  she  became  more  timid 
and  childish  as  years  went  on,  and  also  more  occupied  by  her 
one  idea — the  impending  great  lawsuit. 

Such  was  the  state  of  affairs  in  the  family  at  the  time  when 
the  great  fancy-ball  was  to  take  place  in  the  to^m,  and  when 
Hertha,  at  her  sisters'  earnest  desire,  accepted — "  in  order  to 
enUven  herself  and  them  a  little  " — an  invitation  to  the  re- 
hearsal, which  she  had  received.  We  now  return  to  the 
moment  when  Hertha,  returned  from  this  rehearsal  party, 
entered  Alma's  chamber. 

In  a  deep  recess  on  the  left  hand  stood  the  sisters'  bed,  on 
which  now,  half  reclining  on  high  pillows,  lay  the  elder  of  the 
two  sisters — hei-self  still  young.  She  wore  a  fine  white  night- 
dress ;  the  light  of  a  small  iincostly  nightlamp,  on  a  table  by 
the  bed,  lit  up  a  mild  pale  countenance,  which  was  beautiful 
rather  fi-om  the  expression  of  soul  than  from  the  beauty  of 
the  features,  and  in  which  at  this  moment,  so  much  patience, 
yet  at  the  same  time  so  much  sorrow,  was  expressed,  that  no 
one  could  have  seen  it  without  being  afiected  by  it.  She  held 
an  open  Bible  before  her,  and  had  been  reading  in  the  book 
of  Job — that  deep  voice  from  a  remote  antiquity,  which  has 
been  through  all  ages,  and  still  remains  to  be,  the  most  faithful 
interpreter  of  the  groans  and  cries  of  the  agonized  soul.  She 
who  now  read  it  held  a  lead-pencil  in  her  hand,  with  which 
she  had  marked  the  following  passages  : — 

"  My  breath  is  corrupt,  my  days  are  extinct,  the  grave  is 
ready  for  me." 


THE    FOUR   SISTERS. 


83 


"  He  hath  destroyed  me  on  every  side,  and  I  am  gone  ;  and 
mine  hope  hath  he  removed  Uke  a  tree." 

"  Wilt  thou  break  a  leaf  driven  to  and  fro,  wilt  thou 
pursue  the  dry  stubble  ?" 

When  Hertha  entered,  her  sister  closed  the  book,  and  a 
faint  smile  lighted  up  the  mild  pale  countenance. 

Hertha  threw  off  her  cloak,  and  hastening  to  the  bed,  fell 
upon  her  knees,  and  took  one  of  her  sister's  hands,  which  she 
covered  with  kisses.  Torrents  of  tender  tears  now  streamed 
from  those  eyes,  lately  so  cold  and  stern,  and  the  voice  which 
was  lately  constrained  now  exclaimed,  in  the  most  sweet  and 
melodious  tones — 

"  Alma,  my  Alma !     Sister,  dear  sister  !" 

And  burning  tears  wetted  the  hand  which  she,  with  inex- 
pressible love,  laid  upon  her  face. 

"  Hertha,  my  dear  heart,  why  are  you  so  excited  ?"  asked 
the  sick  girl,  as  she  bent  her  head  down  to  her  sister's  fore- 
head, and  laid  her  other  arm  round  her  neck. 

"  Ah !"  replied  Hertha,  "  from  a  thousand  causes  ;  because 
I  love  you  so  much  and  hate  others,  and  because  I  am  afraid 
that  you  are  going  away — away  fi-om  me,  my  Alma !  I  have 
been  very  wicked  this  evening,  but  that  is  nothing  to  what  I 
shall  be  when  you  are  gone — you,  my  good  angel !  I  shall 
become  stern  and  full  of  hatred,  because  both  God  and  man 
are  alike  imjust  and  severe." 

"  Don't  say  so !  certainly,  things  are  very  strange  in  this 
world,  and  there  is  a  great  deal  which  might  be  other- 
wise ;  but — some  time — some  time  it  will  all  be  clear,  all 
good !" 

"  I  don't  know  that,  I  don't  believe  that,  as  you  do.  If 
God  can  some  time  and  somewhere  let  the  good  have  the 
"victory,  why  not  now  and  here  ?" 

"  Yes,  why  ?  That  we  don't  know.  But  this  we  do  knovv, 
that  the  impersonation  of  the  highest  love  died  upon  the 
cross,  and  arose  from  the  grave  and  spoke  of  peace  and  joy 
beyond  it !" 

"  Yes,  He !     He  was  good  and  great.     But  He  lived  and 


84  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

died  for  a  great  purpose  ;  and  we,  and  many  besides  ns,  seem 
merely  to  live  to  pine  away  slowly  and  die,  without  any 
object !" 

"  Yes,"  said  Alma,  sadly,  "  that  is  the  worst  of  it.  The 
long,  bitter  agonies !" 

Hertha  arose  from  her  knees  and  wrung  her  hands  as  she 
wept  bitterly.     At  length  she  said : 

''  You  see  what  it  is  which  embitters  me  so  much  against 
the  author  of  our  hfe.  You  so  good,  so  angeUc,  so  loving 
that  you  would  never  let  even  a  worm  suffer,  who  never  did 
anything  but  what  was  good,  why  should  you  be  so  plagued  ? 
When  we  were  children,  and  our  mother  was  alive,  and  we 
Avere  happy  in  her  embrace,  then  it  seemed  to  me  that  I  had  a 
sense  of  God  and  could  love  Hun.  But  since  then  it  has  become 
so  dark.  I  cannot  any  longer  love  God  ;  I  do  not  love — I  do 
not  understand  this  dark  terrible  power,  which  has  called  you 
and  me,  and  so  many  others,  out  of  our  nothingness,  saying, 
'Awake — love,  yearn,  suffer!'  And  then  we  awoke;  we 
tasted  of  life's  bitterness,  we  loved  and  suffered,  and  had  a 
sense  of  the  gloriousness  of  hfe,  merely  to  know  that  we  must 
forsake  it ;  then  again  this  power  seizes  upon  us,  saying,  '  It 
is  enough  ;  lie  down  and  suffer  and  die ;  go  down  into  thy 
grave.  Thou  hast  lived  enough  !'  No,  I  cannot  love  a  God 
who  acts  thus  towards  us.  I  do  not  love  the  God  which  I  see 
in  the  government  of  the  world ;  nor  the  God  which  the  Bible 
talks  of;  he  is  not  a  good,  not  a  just  power  !" 

"  My  sweet  Hertha,  do  not  talk  so  !  There  is  so  very 
much  which  we  are  not  able  to  understand." 

"  There  is,  however,  a  great  deal  which  we  do  under- 
stand. Alma  ! — a  great  deal  which  our  conscience  tells  us,  and 
which  stands  written  there  in  ineffixceable  characters.  To 
this  I  must  and  will  adhere  ;  indistinct  and  insufficient  though 
it  be,  it  is  still  the  only  light  which  now  lights  me  in  this  dark 
world,  the  only  spot  which  is  still  green  and  fi-esh,  which 
belongs  to  me,  and  where  I  feel  myself  at  home.  If  there  be 
a  good  God  he  talks  to  me  thei'e,  in  my  own  conscience, 
because  it  loves  the  good,  it  hates  the  wicked,  it  desires  that 


THE    FOUR   BISTERS.  85 

which  is  just.  If  I  were  no  longer  to  trust  to  this  light,  no 
longer  to  Hsten  to  this  voice,  then  I  do  not  know  what  I 
should  become  or  what  I  should  do, 

"  I  have  held  my  peace  so  long,  I  have  left  unspoken  so 
much  that  stu-s  my  whole  being,  Alma  !  With  you  alone  can 
I  give  vent  to  my  feelings.  You  only  can  read  my  heart.  I 
feel  as  if  your  glance  had  a  healing  power.  Lay  yom-  hand 
there  ;  let  it  rest  there  for  a  moment ;  perhaps  it  may  allay 
this  bitterness,  wliich  I  now  feel  towards  them  who  gave  us 
life,  against  them  whom  we  call  our  father  in  Heaven,  and 
our  father  on  earth.  Bittei-ness  against  one's  father  is  a 
frightful  feeUng !  Oh,  Alma !  when  I  think  that  it  is  our 
father's  fault  that  you  are  lying  here  heart-broken  ;  that  you 
might  have  been  the  happy  wife  of  the  man  who  loved  you 
if  our  father's  obstinacy  and  covetousness  had  not  separated 
you !" 

"  Do  not  speak  of  it,  Hertha !"  interrupted  Alma,  whilst  a 
death-Hke  paleness  overspread  her  countenance ;  "  do  not 
touch  upon  that  subject." 

"  Forgive  me,  beloved !  But  I  know  that  it  is  that  which  is 
killing  you.  Ever  since  then  have  I  seen  you  fade  and  waste 
away,  as  by  some  secret  malady ;  your  eyes  become  larger ; 
your  cheeks  emaciated,  and  you — oh.  Alma,  sweet  Alma  !  I 
feel  I  shall  hate  him  !" 

"Do  not  hate  him.  Pity  him  rather.  Believe  me,  he  is 
not  happy.  He  has  not  always  been  as  he  is  now.  Ever 
since  our  mother's  death,  Anna  says  that  his  temper  has  be- 
come gloomy  and  morbid ;  and  our  aunt  made  him  more 
morose  than  he  otherwise  would  have  been." 

"  But  he  is  also  unjust  and  severe !  Had  he  gi\'cn  us  our 
right,  then  you  would  not  have  been  as  you  now  are.  Why 
does  he  withhold  from  us  our  mother's  property  ?  Why  does  he 
render  us  no  account  of  what  we  possess,  or  of  what  we  ought 
to  have  ?" 

"  We  have,  in  fact,  no  right  to  desire  it.  We  are,  accord- 
ing to  the  laws  of  our  country,  still  minors,  and  he  is  our  law 
iul  guardian." 


86  THE   FOUR  SISTERS. 

"  And  we  shall  always  continue  to  be  minors,  if  we  do  not 
go  to  law  with  our  father,  because  it  is  his  will  that  we  should 
ever  be  dejDendent  upon  him,  and  the  laws  of  our  country  for- 
bid us  to  act  as  if  we  were  rational,  independent  beings ! 
Look,  Alma,  it  is  this  injustice  towards  us,  as  women,  which 
provokes  me,  not  merely  with  my  father,  but  with  the  men 
who  make  these  my  country's  unjust  laws,  and  with  all  who 
contrary  to  reason  and  justice  maintain  them,  and  in  so  doing 
contribute  to  keep  us  in  our  fettered  condition.  We  have 
property  which  we  inherit  from  our  mother  ;  yet  can  we  not 
dispose  of  one  single  farthing  of  it.  We  are  old  enough  to 
know  what  we  desire,  and  to  be  able  to  take  care  of  ourselves 
and  others,  yet  at  the  same  time  we  are  kept  as  children  un- 
der our  father  and  guardian,  because  he  chooses  to  consider 
us  as  such,  and  treat  us  as  such.  AVe  are  prohibited  every 
action,  every  thought  which  would  tend  to  independent  activ- 
ity or  the  opening  of  a  future  for  ourselves,  because  our  fa- 
ther and  guardian  says  that  we  are  minors,  that  we  are  child- 
ren, and  the  law  says,  '  it  is  his  right ;  you  have  nothing  to 
say !' » 

"  Yes,"  said  Alma,  "  it  is  unjust,  and  harder  than  people 
think.  But,  nevertheless,  our  father  means  well  by  us ;  and 
manages  our  property  justly  and  prudently  mth  regard  to  our 
best  interests." 

"  And  who  will  be  the  better  for  it  ?  We  ?  When  we  are 
old  and  stupid,  and  no  more  good  for  anything !  See,  I  shall 
soon  be  twenty-seven,  you  are  twenty-nine  akeady,  and  for 
what  have  we  lived  ?" 

Alma  made  no  reply,  and  Hertha  continued : 

"  If  we  had  even  been  able  to  learn  anything  thoroughly, 
and  had  had  the  liberty  to  put  forth  our  powers,  as  young 
men  have,  I  would  not  complain.  Is  it  not  extraordinary, 
Alma,  that  people  always  ask  boys  what  they  would  like  to 
be,  what  they  have  a  fancy  or  taste  for,  and  then  give  them 
the  opportunity  to  learn,  and  to  develope  themselves  accord- 
ing to  the  best  of  their  minds,  but  they  never  do  so  with 
girls !  They  cannot  even  think  or  choose  for  themselves  a  pro- 


THE   FOUR    SISTERS  87 

fession  or  way  of  life.  Ah,  I  would  so  gladly  have  lived  upon 
bread  and  water,  and  been  superlatively  happy,  if  I  might  but 
have  studied  as  young  men  study  at  universities,  and  by  my 
own  efforts  have  made  my  own  way.  The  arts,  the  sciences, 
— oh,  how  happy  are  men  who  are  able  to  study  them;  to 
penetrate  the  mysteries  of  the  beavitiful  and  the  sublime,  and 
then  go  forth  into  the  world  and  communicate  to  others  the 
wisdom  they  have  learned,  the  good  they  have  found.  How 
glorious  to  Uve  and  labor  day  by  day,  for  that  which  makes 
the  world  better,  more  beautiful,  hghter.  How  happy  should 
one  feel,  how  good,  how  mild ;  how  different  that  life  must  be 
to  what  it  is,  where  there  seems  to  be  no  other  question  in 
the  world  but,  '  "What  shall  we  eat  and  drink,  and  what  shall 
we  put  on  ?'  and  where  all  Hfe's  soUcitude  seems  to  resolve 
itself  into  this.  Oh,  Alma,  are  we  not  born  into  this  world 
for  something  else  ?  How  wretched !"  and  as  if  overwhelmed 
by  the  thought,  Hertha  buried  her  face  in  her  hands.  Pre- 
sently she  became  calmer,  and  continued,  looking  steadily 
■upwards : 

"  How  dissimilar  are  objects  in  the  world,  as  well  m  nature 
as  among  mankind.  The  Creator  has  given  to  each  and  all 
their  different  impulse  and  destination,  which  they  cannot 
violate  without  becoming  unnatural,  or  perishing.  Tliis  is 
allowed  to  be  an  imquestioned  law  as  regards  the  children 
of  nature.  People  do  not  require  from  the  oak  that  it  shall 
be  like  a  birch,  nor  from  the  hly  that  it  shall  resemble  the 
creeping  cistus.  With  men  it  is  the  same  ;  they  are  allowed 
each  one  to  grow  according  to  his  bent  and  liis  nature,  and  to 
become  that  which  the  Creator  has  called  them  to  be ;  but 
women,  precisely  they  who  should  improve  every  power  to 
the  utmost,  they  must  become  imnatural,  thoughtless,  submis- 
sive tools  of  that  lot  to  which  men  have  destined  them.  They 
must  all  be  cast  m  one  mould  and  follow  one  line,  which  is 
chalked  out  for  them  as  if  they  had  no  souls  of  then*  own  to 
show  them  the  way,  and  to  give  them  an  uidividual  bent. 
And  yet  how  different  are  the  gifts  and  the  dispositions  of 
women ;  what  a  difference  there  is,  for  instance,  among  ua 


88  THE   POUR,   SISTERS. 

sisters,  all  children  ot"  the  same  parents.  What  a  clever  and 
active  practical  woman  Avill  our  Martha  become,  and  Maria, 
on  the  contrary,  how  unusually  thoughtful  and  pleased  with 
study  is  she!  You,  my  Ahna,  are  made  to  be  the  angel  of 
domestic  life,  and  I — ah,  I  do  not  know,  I  cannot  tell  what  I 
was  created  to  become.  I  yet  seek  for  myself;  but  if  I  had 
been  able  to  develope  myself  in  freedom,  if  the  hunger  and 
the  thirst  which  I  felt  withm  me  had  been  satisfied,  then 
I  might  perhaps  have  become  something  more  than  ordinarily 
good  and  beneficial  to  my  fellow-creatures.  Because,  though 
it  may  be  bold  to  say  or  think  it,  I  laiow  that  I  might  have 
been  able  to  acquire  the  good  gifts  of  fife  in  order  to  impart 
them  to  the  many  ;  I  would  hberate  the  captive  and  make 
the  oppressed  soul  happy  ;  I  would  work,  and  live  and  die  for 
humanity.  Other  objects  are  for  me  too  trivial.  There  Avas  a 
time  when  I  beheved  what  people  and  books  said  about  home 
and  domestic  life,  as  woman's  only  object  and  world ;  when 
I  thought  that  it  was  a  duty  to  crush  all  desires  after  a  larger 
horizon,  or  any  other  sphere  of  action  ;  weak,  stupid  thoughts 
those,  which  I  have  long  since  cast  behind  me  !  My  inward 
eye  has  become  clearer,  my  own  feelings  and  thoughts  have 
become  too  powerful  for  me,  and  I  can  no  longer,  as  formerly, 
judge  myself  by  others.  There  was  a  time  when,  above  all 
things,  I  thirsted  after  an  artist's  life  and  freedom ;  but  that, 
even  that,  is  a  selfish,  circumscribed  aim,  if  it  be  not  sanctified 
by  something  higher.  Marriage  is  to  me  a  secondary  thing, 
nay,  a  wretched  thing,  if  it  do  not  tend  to  a  higher  human 
development  in  the  service  of  light  and  freedom.  That  which 
I  seek  for  and  which  I  desire  is,  a  life,  a  sphere  of  labor, 
which  makes  me  feel  that  I  live  fully,  not  merely  for  myself, 
but  for  the  whole  community,  for  my  country,  my  people,  for 
humanity,  for  God,  yes,  for  God!  if  he  be  the  God  of  justice 
and  goodness — the  father  of  all.  Perhaps  I  may  never  attain 
to  that  which  I  wish  for  ;  perhaps  I  may  sink  down,  buried  in 
the  inner  life,  which  is  mine  and  so  many  other  women's 
portion  in  this  world ;  but  never,  never  will  I  say  that  it  is 
woman's  proper  inheritance   and  lot,   never  will  I   submit, 


TTIK    FOVH    STSTKRS.  89 

never  will  I  cease  to  maintain  that  she  has  been  created  for 
something  better,  somethmg  more;  yes,  if  she  were  able  fanly 
and  fully  to  develope  all  the  noble  powers  which  the  Creator 
has  given  her,  then  she  would  make  the  world  happier.  Oh ! 
that  I  could  Uve  and  labor  for  the  emancipation  of  these 
captive,  strugghng  souls,  these  souls  which  are  yearning  after 
life  and  light ;  with  what  joy  should  I  live,  with  what  gladness 
should  I  then  die,  yes,  even  if  to  die  were  to  cease  for  ever ! 
I  should  then,  nevertheless,  have  lived  immortally !" 

"How  handsome  you  are,  after  all,  Hertha!"  exclaimed 
Alma,  as  she  looked  up  with  rapture  to  her  sister,  who  looked 
radiant  in  her  longings  after  freedom  and  love. 

"  Handsome,"  repeated  Hertha,  blushing  and  smiling  sor- 
rowfully, "  Ah,  there  was  a  time  when  I  know  I  might  have 
become,  might  have  been  good-looking,  if — ^but  that  time  is 
gone  by,  Now  I  grow  plainer  every  day,  because  my  soul 
and  mind  are  embittered  more  and  more  agamst  both  God 
and  man,  I  have  sometimes  had  the  most  extravagant 
thoughts  of  how  I  might  deliver  us  fi'om  this  misery.  I  have 
thought  of  going  to  Stockholm  and  sj)eaking  to  the  King !" 

"  To  the  King !     Ah,  Hertha !» 

"  Yes,  to  the  King.  They  say  that  King  Oscar  is  noble 
and  just ;  that  he  does  not  refuse  their  rights  to  any  of  his 
subjects,  I  should  speak  to  him  in  this  manner  (now  you 
are  the  King  and  I  am  your  subject)  :  '  Your  Majesty,  I 
come  on  behalf  of  myself  and  many  of  my  sisters.  We  have 
been  kept  as  children,  in  ignorance  of  our  human  rights  and 
duties,  and  held  as  minors,  in  order  that  we  may  not  become 
mature  human  beings.  Both  our  souls  and  our  hands  ai"e  ui 
bonds,  although  God  has  bade  us  to  be  free,  and  although  we 
demand  nothing  but  that  which  is  good  and  right.  In  other 
Christian  countries,  and  even  in  our  own  sister-land,  your 
Majesty's  kingdom  of  Norway,  her  rights  have  been  deter- 
mined by  law  to  woman  at  a  certain  age,  and  this  the  age  of 
her  best  powers  ;  but  in  our  country,  in  Sweden,  the  law 
ordains,  that  the  daughters  of  the  country  shall  for  all  time  be 
under  bondage,  and  declared  to  be  under  age,  unless  they 


90  THE    FOUU    «ISTEIIS. 

happen  to  be  widows,  whatever  their  age  may  be ;  or  they 
must  appeal  to  the  seat  of  justice  to  demand  that  freedom, 
which  still  their  guardians  can  prevent  their  obtaining.' " 

"  But  now,  if  the  Kmg  should  say,  '  My  dear  child,  you 
and  your  many  sisters  need  support  and  guidance.  You 
could  not  manage  or  keep  things  in  order  for  yourselves.'  " 

"Then  would  I  reply,  'Your  Majesty,  let  us  be  tried,  and 
your  Majesty  will  then  see  that  it  is  quite  the  reverse.  Many 
noble-minded  and  liberal-minded  women  have  shown  it  to  be 
so,  and  these  might  become  more,  might  become  many,  if  the 
laws  of  our  country  allowed  it.  Children  could  not  learn  to 
walk  alone,  if  they  were  not  released  from  the  leading  strings ; 
they  could  not  use  their  eyes  unless  hght  were  allowed  to 
enter  their  rooms. 

"  '  Let  us  only  know  that  we  may  be,  that  we  are  permitted 
to  be  our  own  supporters,  and  we  shall  learn  to  support  our- 
selves and  othei'S.  Your  Majesty  !  grant  us  freedom,  grant 
ns  the  right  over  our  own  souls,  our  lives,  our  property,  our 
future,  and  we  will  serve  you,  and  our  country,  and  all  that  is 
good,  with  aU  our  heart  and  aU  our  soul,  and  with  all  our 
powers,  as  only  they  who  are  free  can  do  !' " 

"  Well  said,  my  beautiful,  noble  Hertha  !"  exclaimed  Alma. 
"  I  wish  that  the  King  and  the  estates  of  the  realm  could  both 
see  and  hear  you,  they  would  then  repent  of  having  done  an 
injustice  to  the  Swedish  woman — having  been  willing  to 
depreciate  her  worth  and  hmit  her  future." 

"  And  that  of  the  community  at  the  same  time,"  added 
Hertha,  warmly,  "  because  a  great  deal  of  that  which  is  so 
wretched  in  morals  and  in  disposition,  proceeds  from  the  want 
of  esteem  which  women  have  for  themselves,  the  want  of  fully 
comprehending  their  high  vocation  as  human  beings.  Our 
l^oor  Amaha,  for  example,  and  many  besides  her,  had  as- 
suredly never  fallen  and  become  despised  creatures,  if  they 
had  early  been  able  to  look  up  and  onwards  to  some  noble 
and  available  destination  for  which  they  could  live  and  labor 
every  day.  How  dark  and  narrow  is  the  space  which  man 
allots  to  woman  in  this  world  !  and  when  she  feels  it,  when  the 


TUE   FOUR   SISTERS.  91 

hearth  becomes  too  narrow  for  her,  how  lonely  and  unpro- 
tected is  she  in  the  great  world  outside.  Besides  which,  how 
few  are  the  women,  and  how  happy  the  circumstances  must 
be  for  them,  who  become  all  that  they  might  and  ought  to  be, 
in  comparison  with  the  mass  who  live  and  die  imperfect 
human  beings  not  one  half  or  quarter  developed.  And  I,  who 
condemn  them  so  severely,  what  am  I  myself  but  an  imperfect 
outline  of  a  human  being?  and  it  is  only  my  combating 
against  the  condition  that  causes  it,  nothing  else,  which  gives 
me  any  respect  for  myself  Because  I  know  it — I  might  be 
something  different,  something  more  !" 

"  And  you  will  be  that  yet,"  said  Alma,  "  because  you  are 
not  of  the  common  class,  and  your  rich  and  beautiful  gifts 
cannot  be  extinguished  or  grow  rigid  for  want  of  use.  I  have 
a  feeUng  within  me,  Hertha,  that  you  have  yet  much  that  is 
beautiful  to  experience  and  to  live  for.  Some  time — some 
time  I  will  speak  to  our  father  about  you  and  the  little  girls. 
He  wishes,  after  all,  our  best  interests ;  he  loves  us  in 
his  way." 

"  So  also  does  the  slave-owner  his  slaves  and  serfs,  and  it  is, 
'  only  out  of  care  and  regard  for  them,'  that  he  refuses  them 
their  fi-eedom.  I  am  weary.  Alma,  of  so  much  and  such  useless 
talk  about  love  and  love.  I  wish  people  would  say  less  about 
love  and  more  about  justice — true  justice  :  especially  that  they 
practised  it  more  in  the  world.  For  injustice  is  the  root  of  all 
want  of  love,  of  all  evil.  Without  justice  there  can  be  no  true 
love,  neither  can  it  be  preserved.  There  was  a  time,  when  I 
was  a  child,  when  I  loved  my  father  very  much ;  when  I 
looked  up  to  him  as  to  a  higher  being,  and  even  now  it  some- 
times happens,  when  I  have  seen  him  sitting  there  with  his 
strong,  handsome  features,  like  an  old,  deposed  king,  as  now 
when  he  is  ill,  that  my  heart  has  been  drawn  towards  him 
with  wonderful  power, — I  would  give  a  great  deal  to  be  able 
to  love  him,  and  to  be  loved  by  him ;  but,  already,  wliilst 
I  was  yet  a  child,  he  taught  me  to  fear  him,  and  since  then, 
now  that  I  understand  his  selfishness,  his  injustice — I  have 
lost  all  faith  in  him,  all  desire  to  do  that  which  he  wills,  and  I 


92  THE    FOUR   SISTERS. 

feel  at  times  much  more  likely  to  hate  than  to  love  him. 
Every  day  the  relationship  between  us  becomes  more  and 
more  bitter." 

"  And  yet,  yet  it  ought  to  be  so  different.  "Wait,  my  sweet 
Ilertha,  wait  yet  awhile ;  I  have  an  impression  on  my  mind 
that  a  change  is  about  to  take  place, — my  mind  is  in  such  an 
extraordinary  state  this  evening,  sad,  and  yet  cheerful ! — But, 
Hertha,  I  wUl  now  speak  to  you  about  somethmg  else — • 
beseech  something  from  you." 

"  Ah,  tell  me  what  it  is.  Anything  which  you  wish,  and 
which  is  in  my  power  I  will  do." 

"  I  want  to  talk  to  you  about  Rudolph.  Sweet  Hertha,  do 
not  be  too  friendly  with  him.  I  very  well  understand  the 
reason  of  your  kindness  to  him,  but  he  may  mistake  the 
motive,  and  fancy  it  proceeds  from  quite  another  cause." 

"  He  is  not  very  wise,  poor  lad ;  he  has  never  seemed  to  me 
to  be  quite  sharp  ;  but  then  our  father  has  been  so  severe  and 
\'iolent  towards  hun.  Through  all  the  five  years  that  he  has 
lived  in  this  house  he  has  never  once  had  a  kind  word,  nor  a 
kind  glance,  nothing  but  scolding  and  reproaches.  Besides, 
he  is  always  hard  at  work,  and  very  seldom  enjoys  any  leisure. 
One  Avould  be  sick  to  death  of  such  a  life  !  And  he  always 
looks  so  melancholy  and  ready  to  hang  himself;  I  have  felt 
that  he  reaUy  needed  a  little  sisterly  kindness  and  care." 

"  Yes,  if  he  would  only  take  them  in  the  right  way.  But 
he  is  evidently  in  love  with  you,  and  ever  since  the  day  when 
you  rushed  to  him,  and  he  saved  you  from  the  drunken  man, 
he  seems  to  think  that  he  must  be  near  you.  This  makes  me 
xmeasy.  It  looks  as  if  he  thought  he  had  a  right  to  be  your 
protector." 

"And  that  he  has  perfectly,"  replied  Hertha,  laughing, 
*  when  it  comes  to  saving  me  from  a  drunken  man.  He  is 
{all  and  strong,  and  on  that  occasion  behaved  stoutly  and 
courageously.  I  fancy  even  that  since  that  time  he  has  been 
more  lively  and  cheerful,  and  has  seemed  to  have  more  self- 
reliance.  Ah,  it  is  such  a  good  thing  to  wia  the  esteem  of 
those  nearest  to  us,  to  be  able  to  do  something  for  them.    Do 


THE  FOUR  SISTERS.  93 

not  be  uneasy,  clear  Alma,  about  Rudolph  and  me.  He  is 
like  a  poor  plant  which  has  grown  up  in  the  dark,  and  Avhich 
requires  light  to  obtain  its  right  color  and  form.  Let  me  be 
the  Hght  to  him.  We  are  almost  brother  and  sister,  and  th« 
poor  fatherless  and  motherless  lad  has  no  one  in  all  the  world 
who  cares  or  thinks  about  him.  There  is  in  him  a  certaui  ra"\v 
strength  which,  properly  developed,  may  make  a  man  of  him. 
And  even  if  he  did  for  a  time  mistake  my  feeling  for  him,  the 
mistake  cannot  last  long  ;  I  am  neither  handsome  nor  agreea- 
ble enough  to  be  dangerous  to  any  man's  peace,  and  I  become 
less  and  less  so  every  day." 

"  You  do  not  understand.  You  may  be  more  dangerous 
than  many  a  more  beautiful  woman  to  him,  who  see-s  you  in 
your  daily  life." 

"  So  say  you,  who  were,  and  indeed  still  remain  to  be,  my 
only  beloved  lover.  But  I  will  do  as  jon  say.  Alma.  I  will 
be  circumspect  with  Rudolph.     Poor  Rudolph ! " 

"Thanks !  How  beautiful  your  hair  is  !  there  are  wonder- 
fully lovely  golden  rays  in  it  Avhen  the  light  falls  upon  it  side- 
ways, as  now." 

"I  will  take  great  care  of  it,  too,  for  your  dear  eyes' 
sake." 

"  My  eyes  thank  you  for  doing  so ;  it  does  them  good. 
What  time  is  it  ?" 

"  It  is  near  twelve." 

"  Then  I  may  take  my  opium  drops  ;  otherwise  I  know  that 
I  shall  not  sleep." 

"I  will  give  you  them.  Thank  God  for  these  friends, 
which  make  us  forget  life  and  its  misery.  This  has  been  a 
bitter  day  to  me :  now  I  will  take  a  sleeping  draught  with 
you,  and  with  you  wander  into  the  land  of  dreams.  Perhaps 
Ave  may  there  obtaui  the  knowledge  of  why  we  live,  for  we 
cannot  do  so  here." 

And  Hertha  took  the  same  number  of  drops  as  she  had 
given  to  her  sister,  and  lay  down  by  her  side  on  the  bed. 

"  Will  you  not  undress  ?" 

"  No  :  what  is  the  use  of  coutinually  dressing  and  undress- 


94  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

ing  for — no  pm-pose  whatever.  I  am  weary  with  this  eter- 
nally the  same  and  the  needless.  Besides,  I  shall  perhaps  in 
my  dreams  wake  up  his  Majesty,  and  have  to  make  a  speech 
for  the  captives ;  and  then  all  at  once  it  might  occur  to  me 
that  I  was  undressed  in  case — I  were  so.  But  now  I  am 
ready  for  whatever  adventure  befalls." 

"Yes:  dream  now  some  really  remarkable  dream,  which 
you  can  afterwards  tell  to  us  and  to  the  king.  Good  night ; 
but  let  me  lay  the  coverUd  over  you.     So  then." 

"  Do  you  feel  yourself  better  now  ?" 

"  Yes,  much  better.  I  fancy  that  I  shall  have  a  good 
night." 

"  Thank  God !  Kiss  me.  Good  night,  my  Alma !  Alma 
mine !  Alma,  thou  my  Alma !  Pray  God  for  me,  and  for 
us  all !" 

The  two  sisters  laid  their  arms  round  each  other,  and  soon 
were  soundly  asleep,  and  Hertha  dreamed  a  remarkable 
dream. 


THE   FOUR  SISTERS,  95 


BERTHA'S  DREAM  * 

It  seemed  to  her  that  she  was  a  soul  newly  born  to  earth. 
She  was  reposing  in  the  granite  mountain  as  in  her  cradle. 
She  saw  herself,  as  though  the  body  was  a  transparent,  ethe- 
real form  for  the  soul,  and  iu  the  soul  she  saw  the  clear — heart, 
with  its  wonderful  system  of  ventricles  and  arteries,  through 
which  the  life  throbbed  along  warm  crimson  paths,  and  far 
within  it  burned  a  flame,  which  now  rose  and  now  sank,  now 
seemed  dimmer,  now  clearer,  but  evidently  striving  upward, 
as  if  seeking  for  a  freer  space. 

It  was  morning,  and  the  sun  rose  brilliantly  upwards.  She 
rejoiced  in  the  Ught  of  the  sun,  and  drank  a  greeting  to  it 
from  small  beaker-like  leaves  with  purple  edges,  which  stood 
around  her  cradle  filled  with  bright  drops  of  dew.  Her 
heart  beat  with  longing  for  light  and  life.  From  her  little 
nook  in  the  bosom  of  the  granite  mountain,  where  she  lay 
upon  a  soft  bed  of  moss,  she  saw  the  heavens  bright  above 
her  head,  and  the  hills  and  valleys  of  the  earth  spreading  far 
around.  She  saw  a  lofty,  glorious,  verdant  tree,  whose 
branches  stretched  over  the  whole  earth,  and  even  up  to  heaven ; 
they  were  laden  with  beautiful  fruit,  and  she  heard  voices 
singing  from  the  tree-top  in  the  words  of  the  old  Finlandio 
proverb — 

Listen  to  the  tree-top's  whispering, 
At  whose  root  thy  home  is  planted ! 


*  The  prevision  of  this  dream  will  not  fail  to  strike  our  readers  as  extra 
ordinary.  But  who  shall  say  that  many  a  phantasm  of  a  dream  may  not 
be  a  prophecy  of  the  future  ?  Hertha's  dream  must,  as  far  as  it  deals  with 
events  which  haa  not  then  occurred,  be  regarded  as  such. 


96  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

A  clear  fountain  gushed  murmuring  upwards,  not  far  from 
the  root  of  the  lofty  tree.  She  saw  three  beaxitiful 
grave  women  fetch  water  from  the  fountain  and  water  the 
tree,  which  upon  this  seemed  to  grow  ever  gi-eener  and  fresh- 
er. Swans  with  brilliantly-white  plumage  swam,  singing  the 
while,  on  the  waters  of  the  fountain.  Ilertha  saw  men  com- 
ing and  going  under  the  shade  of  the  tree,  plucking  its  fruit, 
and  then  brinsfinof  back  ao-ain  with  exultation  beautiful  crea- 
tions  which  they  called  their  work.  She  saw  glorious  foi*ms, 
proud  erections,  and  the  most  exquisite  ornaments  proceed 
from  their  hands :  she  saw  them  rejoice  over  their  work,  and 
again  and  again  derive  power  for  fresh  labor  from  the  fruits  of 
the  magnificent  tree. 

With  a  beating  heart  she  inquired — 

"Who  are  these?" 

A  voice  answered.  "These  are  the  worshippers  of  the 
Sciences  and  the  free  Arts ;  and  they  who,  in  the  shadow  of 
the  tree  of  life  and  freedom,  devote  themselves  to  the  callings 
which  ennoble  and  gladden  the  heart  of  man."  Many  of 
these  people  seemed  to  pay  an  especial  homage  to  woman. 
They  delineated  her  form  in  manifold  ways  ;  they  composed 
songs  and  made  beautiful  speeches  in  her  honor ;  calling  upon 
her  to  beautify  the  earth  and  to  make  it  happy. 

Hertha  felt  the  fire  in  her  heart  burn  higher  and  higher, 
and  it  inspired  her  to  think,  "  Oh,  that  I,  like  one  of  these, 
labored  in  the  shadow  of  the  beautiful  tree,  enjoying  its 
fi-uits,  and  gladdening  the  hearts  of  my  fellow-creatures  !" 

With  that  she  dreamed  that  she  saw,  looking  down  from 
heaven  above  her,  a  countenance  of  infinite  majesty  and 
infinite  fatherly  love,  and  involuntarily  she  looked  upwards 
and  besought — 

"  Father  !  let  me  labor  and  rejoice,  as  these  my  brothers  !" 

"Go,  my  daughter!"  replied  the  glorious  mild  countenance, 
with  a  smile  of  approval. 

Hertha  then  gladly  left  her  nook  in  the  bosom  of  the  prime- 
val rock,  and  wandered  towards  the  beautiful  tree.  But  it, 
was  more  distant  than  she  had  imagined,  and  she  encountered 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  9T 

many  hindrances  by  the  way.  But  she  overcame  them  all ; 
hastened  courageously  forward,  because  she  never  ceased  to 
hear  the  niurmur  of  the  fresh  fountain  and  the  whispering  in 
the  head  of  the  mighty  tree.  She  now  saw  it  near  at  hand, 
but  she  became  aware  that  it  was  inclosed  by  walls,  which 
altogether  prevented  her  from  advancing  farther.  There  were 
various  gates  in  the  walls,  distinguished  by  the  different  names 
of  academies  and  schools.  These  gates  seemed  at  a  distance 
to  be  open,  but  as  soon  as  she  approached,  with  the  intention 
of  passing  through  them,  she  found  them  closed.  Shd 
knocked,  and  prayed  for  admission.     But  the  porters  replied-— 

"  Men  only  have  free  ingress  and  egress  here.  "We  have  no 
room  for  women  in  our  halls  of  learning,  nor  have  they  any- 
thing to  do  there." 

Hertha  rephed  with  humility :  "  I  can  learn  to  do  beautiful 
and  noble  work  as  well  as  my  brothers.  I  will  not  interfere 
with  any  one,  but  patiently  woi'k  and  learn,  in  order  that  I 
may  be  able  some  day  to  refresh  the  human  heart.  Therefore, 
let  me  also  gather  fruit  from  the  large  tree  of  the  world." 

She  was  then  answered  with  severity :  "  Go,  the  fruit  is 
not  for  you.  Return  to  your  nook  in  the  rock,  and  learn  to 
cook  or  to  spin.  That  is  the  befitting  occupation  for  you  and 
your  compeers.     You  have  no  part  with  the  free." 

Voices  were  now  heard  within  the  gates,  saying,  "  Let  tho 
young  woman  in :  she  ought  also  to  enjoy  the  fruits  of  the 
tree." 

But  other  voices  said :  "  No." 

And  there  was  a  contention  at  the  gates,  because  some 
wished  them  to  be  opened,  but  others  opposed  it.  The  latter 
were  stronger,  and  therefore  the  gates  remained  barred,* 

*  Hertha  was  not  always  clairvoyant  in  this  dream,  as  appears  from  tlie 
fact  that  she  did  not  see  that  actually  a  certain  number  of  female  students 
have  been  admitted  within  the  last  two  yeai's  into  the  Musical  Academy  of 
Stockholm,  neither  were  the  later  endeavors  of  the  directoi's  of  the  indus- 
trial school  at  Stockholm  for  the  formation  of  a  female  class  revealed  to  her. 
As  regards  the  academy  of  the  fine  ai'ts,  it  has  been  closed  against  the  ad- 
mission of  female  pupils  since  the  departure  of  the  noble-minded  Professor 
G 


98  TTJV.  Tova  sT>;Tp;T!f?. 

Spurned  but  not  cast  down,  Hertha  went  on,  seeking  for 
some  gate  by  which  she  might  enter.  Anon  she  arrived  at  a 
portal  over  which  was  written  ia  ornamental  letters,- Industrial 
School,  beneath  which  was  inscribed  "  Open  to  ladies."  Her- 
tha, well  pleased,  knocked  at  the  gate  as  she  thought,  "  at 
last!"  But  the  gate  was  not  opened.  She  knocked  again 
and  again.  At  length  the  porter  was  seen  peeping  from  a 
window. 

"  Be  so  good,"  said  Hertha,  "  as  to  open  the  gate  for  me." 

"  Very  willingly,"  said  the  porter  kindly,  "  if  I  can  do  so. 
But  it  is  next  to  impossible ;  it  sticks  so  fast !" 

And  indeed  it  did  stick  fast !  The  porter  labored  with  all 
his  might,  and  even  called  a  couple  of  men  to  help  him,  and 
they  all  did  their  best  to  get  the  gate  open,  but  in  vain. 

"  It  is  set  immovably  fast  with  rust,"  said  they.  "It  must 
be  greased  before  it  can  be  opened,  and  that  cannot  be  done 
before  the  diet  assembles." 

Hertha  wandered  still  onward,  seeking  for  a  gate  through 
which  she  might  enter,  but  was  repelled  from  aU,  frequently 
with  scorn  and  severity.  She  looked  through  a  lofty  iron 
gate ;  saw  the  bright  fountain  and  the  beautiful  women  who 
watched  them,  and  besought  of  them : 

Quarnstrom  from  his  native  land.  It  is  necessary  to  observe  that  the  deep- 
ly-suffering mind  of  Hertha  reflected  itself  in  her  dream,  and  caused  her  to 
Bee  every  circumstance  on  its  darkest  side.  Whether  she  saw  them  too  dark 
in  Sweden  may  be  questioned.  Some  able  men  in  this  country  seem  to 
think  not,  as  Bishop  Agardh,  for  instance,  in  his  pamphlet  "  On  Life  Insur- 
ances for  Swedish  Women,"  and  a  profoundly  thinking  anonymous  writer 
of  Gottlaad,  whose  excellent  little  pamphlet  "  On  Girls'  Schools,  with  a  few 
Words  on  their  Advantage,  and  the  duty  of  the  State  to  establish  and  sup- 
port them"  (published  by  L.  J.  Hierta,  1850),  deserves  to  be  universally 
known.     The  last  mentioned  pamphlet  has  for  motto  the  following  lines: — 

"  I  will  that  Woman  have  instruction, 
That  she  thereby  may  be  accountable. 
I  will  that  woman  be  accountable, 
That  she  thereby  may  share  life's  happiness." 

We  understand  by  this  happiness,  also,  self-knowledge,  nobility,  and  thank 
the  author  most  cordially  for  the  noble-minded  word. 


THE    POTJR   SISTERS.  90 

"  Give  me  a  di'aught  of  water,  to  refresh  me !  I  am  perish- 
ing of  thirst." 

They  looked  at  her,  those  beautiful,  grave  women,  with 
glances  of  deep  compassion,  and  rephed : 

"  It  is  forbidden  to  us !" 

And  the  eldest  of  the  Nornor  added : 

A  doom  hath  been  spoken, 

A  curse  from  the  old  times 

Lies  on  thee,  O  woman, 

From  verdurous  Munlum. 

Nor,  till  'tis  remitted 

Canst  thou  taste  the  waters 

From  Urda  the  fountain, 

The  fountain  which  giveth  new  life. 

The  stern  Noma  Verdandi  now  spoke  and  said : 

It  is  not  for  the  feeble ; 

It  is  only  for  courage  heroic, — 

For  the  will  that  o'ercometh, — 

For  him  that  doth  honestly  combat, — 

He  only  is  worthy  I 

But  the  younger  of  the  three  looked  with  a  glance  fiill  of  fire 
on  Hertha,  and  said : 

Blessed  are  they  who  have  seen, 
Who  combat  in  faith  and  in  hope  I 
They  shall  be  welcome ; 
They  shall  win  victory  I 

Hertha  understood  not  the  words  of  the  Nornor.  She  imder- 
stood  merely  that  she  was  not  worthy  to  di-ink  of  the  life-giv- 
ing fountain ;  that  they  had  rejected  her. 

Silent  and  with  tearful  eyes  she  turned  back  to  her  little 
nook  in  the  bosom  of  the  mountain.  All  was  as  she  had  left 
it.  The  small  beaker-like  leaves  around  her  bed  had  filled 
theiQselves  mth  tears  of  dew  and  stood  sparkhng,  and  offering 
her  these  drops  of  heaven's  kindness.  She  drained  them  eager- 
ly, kissed  these  small  friends  of  her  childhood  gratefully,  and 
thought  to  herself: 


100  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

"I  will  become  such  as  you  are,  and  rejoice  in  tlie  light  and 
beauty  of  the  sun  for  the  sake  of  others.  I  will  endeavor  to 
be  like  one  of  you,  and  desire  nothing  more." 

But  all  at  once  the  sky  grew  dark :  the  heavens  were  over- 
cast with  heavy  leaden-grey  clouds ;  the  sun  disappeared  be- 
hind them ;  the  verdure  of  earth  withered  ;  the  leaves  fell ;  all 
beauty  vanished,  and  a  dense,  frosty-cold  mist  veiled  every 
object.  Hertha  was  chilled  to  the  bone ;  she  felt  her  limbs 
stiifen,  but  still  the  flame  burned  brightly  in  her  heart,  kin- 
dling up  Ufe,  as  it  were,  still  more,  and  calling  forth  a  still  more 
burning  desire  for  light  and  life,  even  after  the  earth  and  every 
outward  object  were  enveloped  in  the  ice-cold  mist.  She  saw, 
as  it  were,  still  more  clearly  into  her  own  being,  and  knew 
that  a  powerful  life  animated  her.  She  looked  around  her  on 
the  granite  mountain,  and  it  revealed  itself  to  her  inward  sight. 
She  beheld  there  a  multitude  of  women,  whom  her  soul  called 
sisters,  sitting  as  she  did,  in  narrow  cells  of  the  rock,  and  spin- 
ning upon  wheels  (to  which  the  epithet  humdrum  has  ever 
been  apphed)  which  seemed  to  have  neither  end  nor  object, 
because  the  flax  appeared  never  to  decrease  on  the  distafl",  nor 
was  the  reel  ever  filled.  The  spinners  gazed  with  alternately 
longing  and  stupified  glances  out  into  the  misty  distance,  sing- 
ing to  a  monotonous  and  melancholy  air : 

We're  spinning,  we're  spinning  the  whole  day  long ; 

We're  singing  for  ever  the  self-same  song; 

The  days  may  be  weary,  the  prison  walls  strong, 

Yet  we  know  that  he  comes,  that  he  comes  before  long. 

Oh,  sisters,  the  friend  whom  no  man  gainsaith, 

Our  bridegroom,  deliverer.  Death  1 

Hertha  felt  the  deepest  kindness  and  the  most  cordial 
sympathy  for  these  imprisoned  souls.  But  below  the  moun- 
tain she  saw  a  mmaber  of  men  who  were  called  legislators, 
keeping  watch  that  the  captives  might  not  escape  and  become 
j&*ee. 

"What  have  they  done  then,  Avhat  have  we  all  done," 
asked  Hertha  bitterly,  "  that  we  are  to  be  treated  thus  ?  " 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  101 

She  sate  silent  for  awhile  with  her  burnmg  heart,  in  the 
cold  Tinregardful  world,  and  Avaited  for  an  answer.  But  no 
answer  came.  And  the  worst  of  it  w^as,  she  saw  herself  sitting 
like  the  others,  spinning  upon  a  humdrum  wheel,  and  singing 
like  the  others : 

We're  spinning,  we're  spinning  the  whole  day  long, 
"We're  singing  for  evei*  the  self-same  song,  &c. 

And  she  thought  wdthin  herself,  that  rather  than  live  in  this 
way  it  woidd  have  been  better  never  to  have  been  born. 

But  she  did  not  sit  long  thus.  Her  soul  Htled  itself  iip ; 
she  bethought  herself  of  the  words  of  the  Nornor  by  tlie 
Urda  fountain,  that  its  waters  were  only  for  the  heroic-hearted, 
and  for  them  who  combated  in  sincerity !  And  at  once  there 
dawned  Avithin  her  a  strong  desu-e  to  free  herself  and  her  cap- 
tive sister-souls.  She  threw  away  from  her  both  distaif  and 
reel,  arose  and  said,  "  I  will  combat  in  sincerity !  " 

Then  flamed  aloft  the  fire  within  her  heart,  raised  her  froni 
the  earth,  and  floated  her  forth  above  the  heads  of  the  legisla- 
tors through  the  regions  of  space.  This  feeling  thrilled  her  Avith 
joy  and  hope,  and  she  thought :  "  The  curse  on  me  and  my 
sisters  may  then  be  annulled,  and  our  portion,  after  all,  may 
be  among  the  free ! " 

She  involuntarily  turned  towards  the  East — tOAvards  the 
region  where  she  saAV  the  ascending  sun ;  and  borne,  as  if 
upon  invisible  wings,  she  floated  forth  over  the  earth.  Sud- 
denly, however,  she  felt  her  career  impeded,  and  a  harsh  Aoice 
exclaimed : 

"  Halt !  Who  goes  there  ?  " 

"A  soul,"  replied  Hertha,  "which  seeks  freedom,  life,  :ind 
happiness  for  herself  and  many  sisters." 

"  What  purpose  can  that  serve  ?"  said  the  voice :  "  a  s  <  'I  ? 
and  you  are  a  Avoman?  Away  with  such  talk !  Here,  in  Tiiis 
country,  women  have  no  souls.  They  are  not  reckoned  in  the 
population.  You  cannot  go  forAvard  hither.  Face  about, 
marc3  -" 


102  THE   rOUR   SISTERS. 

"Who  are  you  ?  "  asked  Hertha,  "  and  what  right  have  you 
to  command  me  ?  " 

"  What  right  ?  "  thundered  the  voice.  "  I  am  the  great 
Imperial  Ukase,  and  stand  at  my  post  to  prevent  anything 
contraband  from  entering  the  country." 

"  But  I  am  not  contraband,"  said  Hertha ;  "  I  am  only  a 
soul,  who " 

"  Do  not  argue,  but  obey,"  interrupted  the  voice,  "  else 
you'll  have  to  work  in  Siberia."  A  female  soul  which  is  seek- 
ing for  liberty  is  the  most  dangerous  contraband  article  in  the 
world. 

"  Let  me  merely  pass  uninteiTuptedly  through  your  country, 
O  great  Ukase ;  I  will  not  tarry  in  it,  but  only  proceed  on- 
ward towards  the  East,  yonder  Avhere  the  sun  rises ! "  besought 
Hertha. 

"  You  are  a  well-behaved  person,"  said  the  Ukase  more 
mildly,  "  and  therefore,  although  I  A^ill  not  allow  you  to  go 
uninterruptedly  through  my  country,  yet  I  will  show  you 
something,  eastward,  which  may  perhaps  cure  you  of  your 
fanaticism  for  hberty." 

And  with  this  he  allowed  her  to  look  through  a  large  tele- 
scope, which  gave  her  a  view  of  the  East,  as  far  as  China, 
where  not  only  the  souls  of  the  women,  but  also  their  feet 
were  imprisoned ;  and  everywhere,  on  the  face  of  the  earth, 
towards  the  sunrise,  she  beheld  women  oppressed  and  despised, 
excepting  where  they  became  feared  as  despotic  and  vengeful 
powers,  Avhich  sometimes  happened  when  they  succeeded  in 
breaking  their  chains  by  violence. 

"  What  have  they  done  ?"  inquu-ed  Hertha,  "  to  be  thus 
treated  ?" 

"  What's  the  use  of  pitying  them  ?"  replied  the  Ukase. 
"  They  are  treated  as  well  as  they  deserve,  or  as  they  need  to 
be.  Yes,  in  my  holy  country,  very  much  better.  Here 
women  are  outrageously  well  used.  They  are  not  required 
to  pay  tribute  to  the  crown,  as  souls,  and  they  are  allowed  to 
inherit  one  fourteenth  part  of  all  property  left  by  their  rela- 
tions.    By  this  means  they  can  dress  themselves  handsomely, 


THE   rOUU   SISTEKS.  103 

and  talk  about  trifles  as  much  as  they  please,  provided  ouly 
they  are  obedient  and  do  not  make  undue  use  of  their  liberty, 
Now  hear  me,  girl,  you  are  good-looking,  and  I  have  taken  a 
liking  to  you ;  remain  here  and  you  shall  become  the  white 
slave  of  a  rich  Bojar.     Come,  you  shall  be  very  weU  off." 

And  the  great  Ukase  seized  her  by  the  arm. 

Terrified  and  proud,  at  the  same  time,  Hertha  released 
herself  fi-om  hia  grasp  and  fled,  hurling  back  as  she  did  so  a 
glance  of  contempt  at  the  great  Ukase.  She  fled  northward, 
because  she  saw  lights  shinmg,  and  heard  songs  of  rejoicing 
on  the  shores  of  the  icy-sea.  Here  she  found  a  wild,  nomadic 
people,  who  wandered  about  its  dreary  plains  and  through  its 
frozen  primeval  forests.  They  were  now  celebrating  their  fair 
and  a  wedding.  Hertha  saw  the  men  knocking  one  another 
about  as  if  they  were  drunk,  untU  finally  they  fell  upon  the 
snow,  and  there  slept.  In  the  hut,  the  women  surrounded  th« 
bride,  and  gave  her  drink,  and  drank  themselves  out  of  a  jug 
amid  loud  laughter  and  noise. 

"  Are  you  free  and  happy  ?"  inquired  Hertha,  from  them. 

"  What  is  free  .^"  replied  they.  "  Is  it  any  particular  kind 
of  brandy  ?  If  so,  let  us  have  some,  that  we  may  give  it 
to  our  fathers  and  husbands,  that  they  may  not  misuse  us. 
Give  us  some,  that  we  also  may  be  happy.  Otherwise,  happy 
she  who  dies  on  her  third  night.  We  are  born  to  thral- 
dom." 

The  north  wind  roared  across  the  ice-field,  and  the  wedding- 
scene  vanished  in  a  cloud  of  whirling  snow.  After  that  it  was 
calm  and  the  Aurora-borealis  danced  a  torch-dance  around  the 
arctic  circle,  so  that  it  was  as  light  as  the  brightest  day ;  and 
in  this  light  Hertha  beheld  crowds  of  men  and  women,  who 
were  wandering  around  clad  in  skins,  ^vith  their  herds  of  rein- 
deer and  their  dogs.  But  every^vhere,  among  these  wild 
hordes,  were  the  women  servants  to  the  men,  and  their  equuls 
only  in  their  hours  of  debauch  and  of  fight.  Sometimes, 
hoAvever,  the  women  became  witches,  and  were  then  called 
"wise,"  and  were  both  feared  and  obeyed,  because  their 
power  was  great  to  do  evil  and  to  work  revenge ;  and  their 


104  THE   FOUR  SISTERS. 

glance,  which  was  called  "  the  evil  eye,"  had  the  power  of 
bringing  down  misfortune  both  on  man  and  on  beast. 

Hertha  turned  away  from  this  region  and  this  people  with 
a  shudder,  and  again  she  was  wafted  over  the  earth ;  but  this 
time  towards  the  warm  countries  of  the  South. 

She  saw  a  sky  different  to  the  cold  sky  of  the  north ;  a 
more  beautiful,  more  luxuriant  earth,  affluent  with  flowers  and 
fruits.  The  air  was  delicious,  as  kindness  itself;  fountains 
leapt  upwards ;  music  filled  the  :tir — everything  seemed  to  be 
gashing  over  -with  life  and  its  enjoyment. 

She  found  herself  m  a  large  garden  near  a  large  city. 

"  Oh,"  thought  Hertha,  "  here  human  beings  must  be  free, 
good,  and  happy ;  here  I  shall  be  able  to  meet  with  freedom 
for  myself  and  my  imprisoned  sisters." 

Scarcely  had  she  so  thought,  when  some  solemn  and  magis- 
terial looking  persons  approached  her,  and  said : 

"  You  are  talking  about  freedom :  you  are  a  suspicious 
person :  what  are  you  doing  here  ?" 

She  replied,  "  I  seek  for  freedom  for  myself  and  my 
sisters." 

The  official  gentlemen  looked  at  one  another  and  laughed, 
as  if  they  would  say,  "  She  is  out  of  her  mind." 

And  they  said  again  to  her,  "What  is  it  that  you  wish 
for?" 

She  replied  in  the  same  words  as  before. 

"  Are  you  rich  ?"  they  asked, 

"  Xo,"  she  replied ;  "  my  soul  and  my  will  are  my  only 
wealtli." 

"  Then  you  are  a  simpleton,"  said  they ;  "  get  married  if 
you  can,  if  not,  go  into  a  convent." 

"  No,"  replied  Hertha,  "  I  will  live  and  labor  in  freedom 
and  innocence  for  the  object  after  which  my  soul  longs." 

"  'No  freedom  is  innocent,"  said  they,  "  at  least  among 
women.  An  old  sin  lies  against  your  sex.  And  in  any  case, 
you  are  a  dangerous  person,  because  you  talk  about  freedom, 
and  you  come  from  a  country  where  freedom  in  the  old  tunes 
struck  deep  root  and  grew  to  a  large  tree,  as  it  is  said,  and 


THE    FOUR    SISTERS.  105 

where  the  women,  more  than  once,  have  fought  for  tlie  free 
dom  of  their  country;  therefore  you  cannot  be  left  at  hberty 
here." 

"  Oh,"  thought  Hertha,  "  they  do  not  know  how  httle  the 
women  of  my  own  country  can  be  called  free."  But  she  said 
nothing,  because  she  would  not  cast  a  slur  on  the  laws  of  her 
own  land. 

All  at  once  she  now  heard  a  great  cry :  "  To  the  convent, 
to  the  dungeon,  with  the  fool,  with  the  enthusiast  for 
liberty !" 

And  a  crowd  of  men  dressed  in  black  seized  upon  her,  and 
hui-ried  her  forward  towards  a  large  gloomy  building  with 
small  grated  windows.  Fear  and  anger  gave  her  strength  ; 
she  wrested  herself  out  of  their  hands,  and  tied.  Again  the 
fire  in  her  heart  flamed  aloft  and  bore  her  away  and  away, 
until  she  heard  no  longer  the  threatening  derisive  cry. 

She  now  paused,  and  looking  around  saw  that  she  had 
reached  a  large  city,  the  smoke  of  which  was  seen  ascending 
from  a  distance.  Wearied,  she  sat  down  upon  a  stone,  but 
she  felt  herself  so  solitary,  so  forlorn,  so  depressed  because  of 
the  hardness  of  man,  and  because  of  the  curse  Avhich  rested 
upon  her  sex,  that  she  began  to  weep  bitterly. 

With  that  a  splendidly  brilliant  cloud  came  floating  from 
the  near  outskirts  of  the  city,  and  settled  down  upon  the 
earth  close  to  the  spot  where  Hertha  sat.  It  was  as  if  woven 
of  fluttering  gauze,  spangled  with  silver  and  gold;  lovely 
young  girls  stepped  forth  from  its  brilliant  depths,  in  airy 
attu'e,  with  eyes  that  sparkled  with  joy,  and  garlands  on  their 
heads.     They  approached  her  and  said  : 

"  Why  do  you  weep  ?" 

Hertha  replied :  "  I  weep  because  there  lies  a  curse  upon 
me  and  my  sex,  which  banishes  us  from  free  labor  and  from 
joy." 

The  girls  laughed  and  said :  "  Oh,  what  curse  ? — what 
banishment?  Don't  trouble  yourself  about  what  the  ill- 
tempered  say.  Only  be  right  merry  and  gay,  and  then  you 
may  be  as  free  as  you  will.    You  are  too  young  and  handsome 


106  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

to  cry  away  your  life.     Come  along  with  us  and  do  as  we  do. 
We  wiU  receive  you  into  our  company." 

"  And  what  is  it  that  you  do  ?  And  what  are  you  ?"  asked 
Hertha,  with  a  beating  heart,  half-fascinated  by  the  appear- 
ance and  the  conversation  of  the  girls,  and  half  frightened  by 
a  something  which  she  saw  in  them,  but  to  which  she  could 
not  give  a  name. 

The  young  women  laughed,  looked  at  one  another,  and 
replied : 

"  We  are  called  ladies  of  pleasure ;  because  we  live  for 
pleasure  alone.  We  play  with  the  hearts  of  men,  and  we  rule 
them.  If  they  are  somethnes  cruel  to  us  in  their  sport,  we  can 
be  revenged  on  them.  And  if  we  can  once  succeed  in  getting 
them  into  our  net,  there  is  no  escape  for  them  all  their  days. 
We  ensnare,  and  laugh  at  those  who  fancy  themselves  our 
masters." 

"And  what  is  the  object  of  all  this,  and  for  what  do  you 
live  ?"  asked  Hertha  once  more. 

The  girls  laughed  and  answered :  "  We  live  for  the 
moment.  We  ask  for  nothing  more  than  to  enjoy  the  day  as 
it  passes,  and  to  amuse  ourselves  in  the  best  way  possible. 
We  are  the  freest  creatures  in  the  world.  We  Uve  freely,  or 
at  other  people's  expense,  in  all  countries.  We  follow  no 
laws  but  our  own  fancy  ;  we  obey  the  voice  of  no  duty.  We 
take  husbands  and  then  leave  them,  just  as  it  pleases  us.  We 
might  have  children  like  other  women,  but  we  do  not  bind 
ourselves  like  other  women  to  sit  and  slave  for  them;  we 
merely  look  after  our  o's\ti  j^leasures  !" 

"You  might  have  cliildren,  and  yet  will  not  take  charge  of 
them?"  said  Hertha,  astonished.  "  Who  then  does  take 
charge  of  your  little  children  ?" 

"  We  don't  exactly  know,"  repUed  the  girls.  "  The  people 
at  the  Foundling  Hospitals  sometimes  ;  we  have  not  time  for 
such  things.     We  will  be  free  women." 

"  Oh,"  said  Hertha,  "  your  freedom  is  not  of  the  kind 
which  I  yearn  after.  Your  freedom  is  a  mistake.  You 
believe  yourselves  to  be  free,  but  you  are  slaves " 


THE    I'OUK    SISTEilS.  lOt 

"  What,  we  slaves !"  interrupted  the  girls,  laughing ; 
"  come,  we  will  show  you  how  we  are  bound  !" 

And  they  drew  Hertha  along  with  them  in  the  dancing 
circle ;  in  vain  she  besought  of  them  to  cease ;  in  vain  to  let 
her  go ;  they  dragged  her  along  with  them,  whirling  round 
in  the  dizzy  bewildering  cii'cles  untU  her  senses  seemed  about 
to  leave  her,  and  anguish  took  possession  of  her  heart.  But 
the  gay  ladies  still  danced  and  drank  wine,  exclaiming  the 
while :  "  Thus,  thus  to  the  end  of  life ;  thus,  thus  in 
eternity ! " 

"  Oh,  it  is  horrible !"  exclaimed  Hertha,  as  she  at  length 
freed  herself  from  their  trammels.  "  Away !  away  !  with  you  ! 
I  will  have  no  part  in  your  freedom !" 

The  gay  ladies  laughed  contemptuously. 

And  again  they  veiled  themselves  in  the  splendid  cloud, 
which  now,  borne  away  as  if  on  millions  of  butterflies'  wings, 
was  driven  by  the  wind  back  to  the  great  city.  It  was  a 
splendid  sight,  and  Hertha  heard  for  a  long  time  then*  merry 
voices  and  laughter. 

Hertha  looked  after  them  mth  profound  melancholy,  and 
said  to  herself:  "  These  think  themselves  free  and  happy  ; 
and  I ! » 

The  fire  burned  in  her  heart,  and  she  felt  that  she  was 
born  for  something  better  than  their  hajipiness.  But  for 
what  ? 

"  Oh,"  thought  she  now,  "  I  will  go  to  the  learned  and  the 
wise  of  the  earth,  and  ask  them  how  the  curse  can  be  remov- 
ed, under  which  I  and  my  sisters,  and  even  those  giddy 
beings  who  were  here  just  now,  are  all  lying,  and  which 
deforms  our  hfe  and  our  whole  being.  Of  a  certainty  they 
will  know,  and  of  a  certainty  they  will  tell  me  how ;  and  I 
will  then  live  and  labor  for  this  purpose  every  day  and  every 
hour  of  my  life." 

The  fire  in  Hertha's  soul  agam  lifted  her  from  earth  and 
floated  her  away  to  a  country  and  a  people  who  were  the 
most  learned  and  the  most  deep-thinking  in  the  world.  In 
that  country  German  was  spoken. 


108  THE  FOUR  SISTERS. 

Hertha  arrived  at  the  very  moment  when  a  large  genera] 
assembly  of  learned  and  wise  men  were  convened  and  had 
divided  themselves  into  three  chambers,  each  one  of  which 
had  its  own  important  science  to  attend  to,  and  they  were 
just  now  met  in  comicil. 

In  the  first  chamber  they  discussed  an  important  question, 
viz,  the  beard  of  Thersites,  because  the  learned  interpreted 
in  different  ways  the  word  which  Homer  uses  on  this  subject; 
and  they  were  now  in  such  hot  dispute,  with  their  proofs  and 
counterproofs,  that  they  were  very  near  coming  to  blows,  all 
about  "Thersites'  beard."  It  was  just  at  this  moment  when 
Hertha  announced  herself  and  prayed  to  have  an  audience 
granted  her. 

"  What  is  she  ?  what  does  she  want  ?"  asked  the  learned. 

"  She  says,"  rephed  the  doorkeeper,  "  that  she  is  a  human 
being  who  seeks  the  emancipation  of  an  oppressed  portion  of 
humanity." 

"  What  kind  of  idea  is  that  ?"  repUed  the  learned,  shak- 
ing then-  heads  in  a  gentlemanly  sort  of  way ;  "  what  does 
it  concern  us  ?  How  dare  she  come  with  such  common-place 
business  to  an  assembly  occupied  with  the  subject  of  Thersites' 
beard  ?  It  is  the  height  of  audacity  and  thoughtlessness ! 
Show  the  human-bemg  out !    She  will  not  gain  anything  here !" 

Thus  rejected,  Hertha  went  to  the  second  chamber  and 
knocked  at  the  door.  Here  they  were  at  this  moment  most 
deeply  occupied  on  the  tail  of  a  new  species  of  rat,  as  well  as 
by  the  digestive  process  of  a  peculiar  kind  of  animalcule, 
and  they  were  so  interested  and  so  absorbed  by  these  new  dis- 
coveries, that  they  merely  replied  impatiently  to  Hertha's  pe- 
tition :  "  We  have  not  any  time  for  souls  !  Go  to  the  legisla- 
tors and  statesmen." 

Hertha  presented  herself  therefore  at  the  third  chamber, 
Avhere  the  statesmen  and  legislators  were  sitting  in  coundl. 
They  were  just  then  engaged  on  one  of  the  four  points  of  the 
Oriental  question,  and  were  skirmishing  away  with  thousands 
of  pens.  To  Hertha's  petition  they  made  answer  that  they 
were  occupied  with  subjects  of  vital  interest  to  the  world,  and 


THE  FOUR  SISTERS.  109 

had  not  time  to  busy  themselves  with  ladies'  affairs.  They 
told  her  to  lay  her  business  before  the  ladies'  chamber. 

"  Yes,"  thought  Hertha,  as  she  turned  away  from  the 
assembly  of  men,  "  I  will  go  to  the  noble  and  thinking  women 
of  the  country.  They  will  perhaps  be  better  able  to  compre- 
hend the  importance  of  my  business." 

She  proceeded,  therefore,  to  a  large  assembly  of  venerable 
matrons.     They  were  all  sitting  and  knitting  stockings. 

"  Oh,  mothers !"  said  she,  addressing  them,  "  aid  me,  for 
the  sake  of  your  daughters,  in  removing  the  curse  which  hes 
upon  our  sex,  and  which  prevents  us  from  perfecting  our 
being  and  attaining  to  the  high  pm'poses  for  which  we  would 
strive !" 

The  matrons  repHed :  "  What  do  you  mean  ?  We  have  our 
housekeeping  to  attend  to  ;  our  husbands  and  our  children  to 
care  for.  Our  daughters  learn  languages  and  music  and 
ladies'  work  and  housekeeping-business.  Our  sons  pursue 
studies  which  will  help  them  on  in  the  world.  We  have 
quite  enough  to  look  after.  Do  not  come  and  annoy  us  with 
your  troubles !" 

"  Is  there  nobody  in  the  whole  world,"  said  Hertha,  asto- 
nished and  wounded,  "  who  can  understand  me  and  my  errand, 
who  wHl  aid  me  in  liberating  the  fettered  and  captive  soiil  of 
woman  ?' 

"  Go  to  France,"  repHed  the  matrons.  "  The  French  are 
the  politest  men  in  the  world,  and  are  fond  of  revolutions. 
Try  there.  But  it  would  be  much  better  to  stop  at  home 
and  knit  stockings.  Between-times  you  could  go  to  church 
and  attend  lectures." 

"  Should  I  find  justice  and  truth  if  I  did  so  ?"  asked  Hertha, 
sorrowfully,  as  she  turned  her  glance  from  the  council  of 
matrons  to  the  assembly  of  young  men.  Here  she  saw  a  vast 
number  of  young  fellows  smoking  cigars  and  rocking  them- 
selves in  rockmg-chairs,  whilst  in  a  half-sleepy  voice  they 
asked,  "  What  is  truth?  what  is  justice?"  After  which  they 
blew  Ibrth  such  a  quantity  of  smoke  that  Hertha  was  nearly 
choked. 


lie  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

Her  thoughts  and  soul  then  sped  her  away,  withe nt  loss  of 
time,  to  Paris.  But  such  a  terrific  noise  and  bustle  prevailed 
there  that  she  felt  wholly  bewildered.  It  was  at  the  time  of  a 
great  World's  Exhibition,  and  everybody  was  pouring  in 
thither.  One  portion  of  the  people  sang,  "  What  shall  we  eat 
and  drink,  and  wherewith  shall  we  amuse  ourselves  ?"  And 
another  portion  were  holding  a  council  as  to  how  they  could 
best  destroy  one  another.  Nay,  they  had  appointed  a  com- 
mittee to  distribute  rewards  to  such  as  had  invented  new 
species  of  fire-arms,  or  other  destructive  machines,  which  in 
the  shortest  possible  time  could  destroy  the  greatest  possible 
number  of  human  beings.  And  they  were  just  now  about  to 
reward  a  person  who  had  invented  a  kind  of  explosive  giant 
bomb-shell,  which  would  in  a  moment  deprive  whole  batta- 
lions of  grenadiers  of  their  eyesight.  People  were  vastly 
enthusiastic  about  this  discovery,  and  it  was  intended  to  have 
a  medal  struck  in  honor  of  its  inventor,  so  that  he  might  be 
immortal.  This  assembly  Avas  in  such  a  good  humor,  that 
they  proposed  to  Hertha  to  make  her  a  citizeness  of  France, 
on  condition  of  her  subscribing  to  the  medal.  But  when 
Hertha  mentioned  her  business,  the  gentlemen  replied  smiling, 
that  that  was  quite  another  aifair,  and  that  they  had  not  now 
lime  to  attend  to  it.  But  they  bowed  and  protested  that  the 
ladies  ruled  the  world ;  that  they  were  aU  powerful  through 
their  charms ;  and  with  that  they  rushed  out  to  shout  hurrah 
for  Queen  Victoria,  who  at  this  moment  was  making  her 
entrance  into  Paris.  And  all  the  people  of  France  drank  the 
cup  of  brotherhood  with  the  people  of  England,  and  shouted 
"  Vive  I'Angleterre !" 

Hertha  now  recollected  that  she  had  always  heard  England 
mentioned  as  the  true  native  land  of  freedom  and  human 
kindness,  and  her  yearning  and  the  fire  in  her  heart  carried 
her  at  once  thither. 

When  she  reached  that  coimtry  she  felt  herself  invigorated 
and  re-animated,  because  she  perceived  a  powerful  public 
spirit  there,  which  made  itself  felt  on  all  hands  like  a  refresh- 
ing breeze,  and  she  saw  that  the  glorious  tree  of  liberty, 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  HI 

bearing  its  golden  fruit,  grew  there  more  vigorously  and  to  a 
larger  size  than  anywhere  else  on  the  face  of  the  earth. 

And  here  she  saw  the  great  John  Bull  standing  in  the  midst 
of  an  immense  throng  of  people,  distributing  orders  and  work, 
glancing  meanwhile  now  and  then  into  a  French  dictionary, 
and  repeating  phrases  from  it,  because  having  now  become 
very  good  friends  with  the  suijermtendant  of  the  French, 
whom  they  called  Emperor,  he  wished  to  interlard  his  conver- 
sation with  pohte  phrases,  John  Bull  looked  so  practical 
and  so  jovial  that  Hertha  took  courage  and  addressed  him. 

"Good  sir,  help  me  to  liberate  myself  and  my  captive 
sisters." 

"  Je  suis  charm§  !  "  replied  John  Bull.  "  I  am  a  champion 
of  freedom  and  a  great  ladies'  man,  but — but — but — we  are 
now  so  much  occupied  by  the  war  in  the  East,  and  are  at  this 
very  moment  doing  our  best  to  perfect  a  huge  projectile,  a 
gigantic  projectile  which,  when  it  explodes,  will  poison  a 
whole  city  with  its  stench.  It  is  a  great  matter,  a  very  great 
matter.  This  is,  my  good  girl,  a  great  time  for  humanity, 
and  if  you  and  your  sisters  wiU  come  hither  and  help  to 
cast  bullets,  or  to  give  lessons  in  the  French  language, 
then—" 

"We  could  not  do  that,"  replied  Hertha.  "But  help  us,  I 
beseech  you,  to  gain  our  rights  and  our  Uberty  as  human 
beings;  then  we  will  serve  you  in  another  way;  we  will  help 
you  to  estabUsh  Hberty,  peace,  and  joy  upon  the  earth." 

"Peace!"  exclaimed  John  Bull,  "I  do  not  wish  now  for 
peace,  but  for  war." 

"War  against  the  oppressor  is  a  good  and  a  right  thing, 
and  it  is  a  glorious  sight  to  behold  free  nations  allied  for  this 
struggle,"  replied  Hertha,  "but  we  even  amid  war  could 
extend  the  kingdom  of  peace." 

"  I  have  not  now  time  to  aid  you  in  such  undertakings," 
said  John  Bull,  impatiently,  "my  miad  is  occupied  by  the 
war  in  the  East.  Besides  I  am  not  quite  sure  that  I  should 
approve  of  your  notions.  Woman's  true  sphere  is  domestic 
life.    I  must  have  my  tea  and  my  comforts,  and  the  ladies  to 


112  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

look  after  tliem.  Woman  must  not  be  taken  out  of  the 
family  circle.  I  cannot  therefore  approve  of  your  ideas  and 
schsmes  of  emancipation  until  I  am  assured  that  they  wiU  not 
interfere  with  my  tea  and  my  daily  comforts.  Adieu,  my 
good  girl !  But,  by  the  by,  you  had  better  go  to  my  half 
brother  Jonathan,  who  lives  yonder  across  the  sea;  he  has 
plenty  of  time,  and  is  always  ready  to  take  up  wonderful  in- 
ventions and  crotchets.  Or  stop.  I  can  give  you  better 
advice  still.  Go  to  Rome.  There  is  at  this  very  time  a  great 
Convocation  of  bishops  and  the  clergy  there.  Talk  with 
them.  If  they  cannot  give  you  counsel  I  don't  know  who 
can.  They  sit  with  their  bibles  before  them  all  day  and  sleep 
upon  them  at  night.  They  ought  to  be  able  to  answer  your 
questions.  Good  bye,  madame  !  Comment  vous  portez-vous  ? 
Tres-hien^  je  vous  remercie .''" 

"Rome,  eternal  Rome!  "  thought  Hertha,  and  the  fire  in 
her  heart  flamed  aloft  at  the  thought  of  all  the  greatness 
which  once  had  lived  there,  and  of  all  the  beauty  which  still 
survived.  "Yes,"  thought  she,  "I  will  go  thither,  I 
wiU  fling  myself  at  the  feet  of  those  spiritual  men,  and 
beseech  of  them  to  remove  the  curse  which  fetters  me  and 
my  sisters," 

She  saw  Alma  Roma,  and  the  great  ConciUum  of  the 
clergy,  their  proud  forms  and  haughty  glances.  It  was 
a  time  of  great  solemnity,  and  Hertha  heard  them  say  : 

"  Henceforth  shall  the  whole  of  Christendom  worship  the 
Virgin  Maria,  as  a  divine,  supernatural  being,  for  this  has 
been  commanded  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  through  his  high-priest, 
Pio  Nono." 

And  a  great  festival  was  ordained  in  honor  of  the  divinity, 
and  there  was  a  great  jubilation. 

Hertha  heard  this  with  astonishment,  but  rejoiced  at  the 
same  time,  and  bowing  with  profound  reverence  before  the 
venerable  gentlemen,  she  said :  "  You  have  exalted  an  earthly 
woman  high  above  the  Uving  and  the  dead  ;  of  a  certainty 
then  you  will  aid  her  sisters,  women  now  on  the  earth,  in  the 
acquirement   of  their  temporal   and   eternal  rights.      Of  a 


THE   FOLR   SISTERS.  113 

certainty  you  will  give  to  them  equal  rights  with  men  to 
strive  after  liberty,  happmess,  and  a  sphere  of  labor  ?  " 

"  Wait  a  Uttle,"  exclaimed  the  spuitual  men;  "that  is  quite 
another  thing.  Let  us  see  what  stands  written."  And  they 
began  to  turn  over  the  leaves  of  their  bibles,  which  lay  open 
before  them,  till  they  fomid  a  passage  which  they  read  aloud. 

It  stood  written:  "And  thou  shalt  be  subject  to  thy  husband, 
and  he  shall  rule  over  thee." 

With  that  the  fire  flamed  upwards  in  Hertha's  soul  and 
inspired  her  to  say  : 

"  You  do  not  give  the  whole  truth ;  you  speak  only  fi'om  the 
Old  Testament.  But  I  know  there  is  also  a  New  Testament, 
and  that  it  there  stands  written  that  woman  has  been  made 
free,  and  that  man  and  woman  are  alike  free  m  Christ.  I 
know  also  that  it  there  stands  written,  that  they  who  are 
worthy  of  the  resurrection  from  death,  neither  marry  nor  are 
given  in  marriage,  because  they  are  like  the  angels,  and  are 
the  children  of  God.  And  do  we  not,  indeed,  pray  daily 
that  the  wUl  of  God  may  be  done  on  earth  as  it  is  done  in 
Heaven?  Why  do  not  you,  the  servants  and  potentates  of 
Christ,  speak  to  me  the  whole  truth  ?  " 

With  this  one  of  the  bishops,  a  liberal  man,  raised  his  voice 
and  said : 

"The  young  woman  is  right,  and  we  have  all  done  her  an 
injustice.  She  whom  Christ  called  mother  and  sister,  with 
whom  he  conversed  familiarly,  and  to  whom  he  revealed  him- 
self after  his  resurrection,  she,  of  a  truth,  has  become  free 
thereby;  her  will  ought  not  to  be  subject  to  the  will  of  any 
other  than  that  of  the  Most  High,  and  she  ought  to  be  free 
to  do  all  which  God  calls  her  to  do.  Let  us  enact  laws  more 
just  as  regards  her  than  any  hitherto  enacted  by  human 
wisdom,  that  we  may  pi'omote  the  advent  of  God's  kingdom 
on  earth  as  it  is  in  Heaven." 

But  all  the  other  bishops  and  spiritual  men  became  angry 

at  this,    and   opposed  themselves  to  him,   and  called  him  a 

secret  Protestant,  a  newsmonger,  and  a  Adsionary.     When  the 

noise  had  again  subsided,  Hertha  prayed  to  be  allowed  to  say 

7 


114  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

a  few  words.  But  the  clergy  exclaimed  with  loud  and  stern 
voices,  "  Let  the  women  keep  silence  in  the  churches."  And 
they  extended  their  crosiers  ahove  Hertha,  and  bowed  her  to 
the  earth. 

Grief  of  soul  and  a  noble  indignation  caused  the  fire  to  burn 
more  hotly  in  her  heart,  and  insj^u-ed  her  to  speak  a  great  and 
holy  name,  the  name  of  the  Saviour.  At  the  sound  of  this 
name  the  crosiers,  which  had  pressed  so  heavily  upon  her, 
were  suddenly  raised,  so  that  she  no  longer  felt  them.  She 
named  it  a  second  time,  and  an  invisible  hand  raised  her  up 
and  strengthened  her  as  by  magical  power.  Yet  a  third  time 
she  named  it,  and  the  whole  imposmg  assembly  of  cardinals' 
and  bishops'  robes  grew  dim,  and  seemed  to  fall  together  like 
white  ashes,  and  were  seen  no  more. 

A  manly  figure,  full  of  majesty  and  beneficence,  now 
seemed  to  move  alone  over  the  earth,  raising  all  who  were 
bowed  down  or  oppressed — the  slave,  Avoman,  the  prisoner, 
the  poor,  and  the  oppressed  :  thus  passed  he  onward,  whilst  a 
radiance  difiiised  itself  as  from  the  grey  robe  in  which  he  was 
wi'apped,  until  he  aj^jDeared  to  vanish  in  the  horizon.  All 
space  seemed  "ndth  that  to  become  vacant  and  desolate. 

"  Oh !"  thought  Hertha,  "  that  was  the  Sa\H[our,  the  de- 
liverer! Oh,  that  I  could  but  find  his  kingdom!  There 
would  I  abide  and  labor  as  the  lowest  of  his  servants!" 

And  her  soul's  yearning  and  love  caused  her  again  to  float 
over  the  earth  towards  the  regions  where  she  had  seen  the 
Saviour  disappear. 

But  below  her  sounded  a  chorus  of  female  voices,  Uke  a  low 
wind  rising  from  the  earth,  which  lamented  : 

"  Thou  wilt  seek  in  vain  for  his  kingdom  on  earth.  As  yet 
justice  has  nowhere  opened  a  path  for  the  full  revelation  of 
love.  Nowhere  as  yet  have  mankind  followed  the  doctrine  of 
the  Saviour.  We  must  yet  for  a  long  time  pray,  '  Thy  king- 
dom come !'     Pray  with  us." 

"  Yes,  I  wiU  pray  and — die !"  thought  Hertha,  and  it 
seemed  to  her  that  all  hope  had  expired  within  her,  and  that 
her  fife  must  end.     She  felt  weary  of  living. 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  115 

And  now  appeared  before  her  inward  eye  a  vision  of  her 
native  land.  She  remembered  those  grey  moss-clacF  moun- 
tams,  that  old  eternally  green  tree  of  freedom,  the  mnrmm-  of 
the  Urda  fountain,  and  the  warlike  songs  of  the  swans.  She 
knew  that  there,  in  her  father-land,  women  were  more  op- 
pressed, and  had  less  independence  allowed  to  them,  than  in 
any  other  Christian  country ;  but  still  it  was  her  native  land 
— a  land  rich  in  great  memories  and  noble  powers.  An  un- 
speakable longing  seized  upon  her  soul,  and  drew  her  hastily 
thither. 

She  again  beheld  them,  those  moss-covered  primeval 
moxmtains,  and  heard  from  afar  the  soughing  of  the  mighty 
branches  of  the  tree  of  the  world,  and  heard  again  the 
whispering  voice  amid  it,  which  said  : 

"  Listen  to  the  tree-top's  wliispering, 
At  whose  home  thy  foot  is  planted  1" 

And  there,  at  the  foot  of  the  tree,  but,  ah  !  so  far,  so  very 
far  from  her,  she  beheld  the  large  grave  Nornor  sitting  by  the 
Urda  fountain,  and  it  seemed  to  her  that  she  heard  their 
voices  speakiag  amid  the  soughing  of  the  mighty  tree  ; 

It  is  for  those  spirits  heroic, 

Those  who  have  seen, 

For  this,  who  have  earnestly  striven. 

Ask  not  from  man. 

List  to  the  voice  of  the  spirit. 

"Watch  thou,  and  wait  thou. 

Only  be  worthy, 

Strong  in  endurance. 

The  hour  is  advancing. 

Who  hath  seen,  he  shall  conquer 

Invigorating  as  the  wind  from  the  mountains  was  the 
sound  of  these  rhythmical  measured  words.  But  their  true 
significance  was  concealed  from  Hertha,  and  they  seemed  to 
have  reference  to  others  rather  than  to  herself. 

Again  she  was  seated  in  her  little  nook  in  the  bosom  of  the 


]1(5  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

granite  moitntain;  she  heard  the  monotonous  song  of  the 
spinners'  all  around  her.  The  cup-like  leaves  stood  as  before 
round  her  cell,  and  offered  her  the  dew-drops  which  they  had 
collected  in  their  hollows.  She  again  found  everything  pre 
cisely  as  it  was  before,  only  she  herself  was  no  longer  the 
same.  She  had  lost  the  freshness  of  her  youth  and  her  former 
cheerful  hope.  She  sate  silently  with  but  one  wish,  and  that 
was  to  die.  Days,  weeks,  months,  years  went  on,  but  death 
came  not.  The  cloudy  sky  hung  grey  and  leaden  above  her 
head,  and  hard  and  cold  the  granite  mountain  inclosed  her 
like  a  prison.  Hertha  felt  her  limbs  becoming  stiffened,  but 
the  fire  within  her  heart  neither  grew  chill  nor  dim.  It  burned 
restlessly  and  consmningly.  Sometimes  Hertha  was  strength- 
ened by  the  words  of  the  Nornor,  which  seemed  to  sound 
through  infinite  space  above  her  head  :  sometimes  her  heart 
died  within  her  under  the  depression  of  her  monotonous 
existence,  and  she  could  not  help  sighing,  "  What  wilt  thou, 
oh  thou  restless  flame  of  life !  There  are  moments  when  thou 
burnest  brightly;  but  long  weary  times  when  thou  merely 
burnest  and  torturest  me,  revealmg  the  darkness  mthm  and 
around  me !  Die  out,  poor  spark !  die  out !  Let  it  be  night, 
and  silent — for  ever  !" 

"  Nay,  live !  Live,  and  enjoy  life  as  we  do  !"  exclaimed 
voices  at  no  great  distance  ;  and  Hertha  again  beheld  the 
brilliant  cloud  and  the  girls  with  their  garlands  of  roses. 

"  Yod  see,"  said  they,  "  we  are  still  near  you.  We  are  at 
home  in  all  countries,  and  everywhere  are  we  alike — free  and 
alike  happy.     Be  as  we  are  !" 

"  Away  !"  replied  Hertha.  "  Away,  you  lie  !  I  see  that 
your  cheeks  are  painted,  and  your  flowers  are  artificial.  I  see 
beneath  your  gay  demeanor  a  secret  unrest.  Poor  sisters ! 
you  are  afraid  of  old  age  and  death.  Of  them  I  am  not 
afraid.  I  feel  a  something  great  within  my  suffering  and 
longing  heart  Avhicli  I  do  not  perceive  in  you.  And  rather 
than  live  happily,  according  to  your  happiness,  I  will  die  un- 
happy with  those  who  are  unhappy.  I  weep — you  smile  :  and 
yet,  poor  sisters !  I  cannot  but  deplore  you." 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  lit 

With  that  the  gay  group  departed  in  two  companies.  The 
one  laughing  scornfully,  but  from  the  other  were  heard  sor- 
rowful, lamenting  voices : 

"And  even  we  were  at  one  time  as  thou  art.  We  felt 
something  within  our  hearts ;  we  sought  for  light  and  for 
freedom,  but  society  barred  to  us  the  paths  which  led  to  hght 
and  to  hfe ;  and  we  were  led  astray  by  ignes  fatui^  which 
promised  happiness  and  libei'ty,  but  which  burned  off  those 
very  wings  wliich  had  lifted  us  upwards.  We  have  fallen : 
we  know  it ;  and  that  it  is  which  makes  our  secret  misery. 
Who  counts  our  silent  sighs?  We  might  have  been  so 
different !  Now  it  is  too  late.  Let  us  drink  wine  and  forget ; 
for  we  must  indeed  live  !" 

Again  the  two  companies  united  into  one  group.  But  in 
that  same  moment  the  rouge  grew  black  upon  their  cheeks, 
and  flames  bm-sting  forth  from  the  earth  caught  their  flutter- 
ing garments,  and  the  splendid  glittering  cloud  was  changed 
into  a  heap  of  ashes.  Hertha  heard  a  wild  cry  of  horror  and 
anguish,  which  died  away  by  degrees  into  lamenting  sighs, 
whilst  a  stormy  wind  dispersed  the  ashes  into  space.  Hertha 
wept  over  the  fate  of  the  daughters  of  pleasure.  And  anon 
she  turned  to  hear  their  dying  voices  hoarsely  whispering  in 
the  tempest : 

"  Weep  for  thyself.  Thou  art  different,  but  thou  art  not 
better  than  we,  and  thy  fate  may  become  still  more  dreadful !" 

And  it  seemed  to  Hertha  that  her  soul  was  changed,  and 
that  the  upward-striving,  yearning  flame  within  it  assumed 
another  character.  It  had  yearned  to  warm  and  to  benefit : 
now  it  would  merely  punish.  She  herself  was  transformed  into 
a  horrible  being,  which  spread  destruction  around  her.  The 
flame  in  her  heart  extended  itself  through  all  her  limbs,  and 
everything  which  she  touched  was  kindled  by  it.  Her  hand 
had  become  a  flaming  torch.  She  laid  it  upon  her  father's 
house,  and  wild  flames  burst  forth.  She  saw  them  grow  high- 
er and  higher,  and  spread  on  all  sides,  setting  fire  to  other  and 
yet  other  houses.  She  heard  the  bells  tolling,  the  beat  of  the 
alarm-drum,  the  shouts  and  terrified  cries  of  people,  the  grating 


118  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

wheels  of  carts  and  of  fire-engines.  The  noise  and  the  tumult 
increased  every  moment,  and  it  seemed  to  be  whispered  into 
her  ear — 

"  Fire !  incendiary  fire !" 

An  imspeakable  anguish  overcame  her,  because  it  seemed  to 
her  that  this  was  her  work.  All  at  oiicu  the  thought  occurred, 
as  is  sometimes  the  case  in  distressing  di-eams,  "  It  must  be  a 
dream!"  She  endeavored  to  wake,  striving  violently  with 
the  dream-spirit  that  held  her  captive ;  at  length  she  conquer- 
ed, and — awoke. 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  119 


THE  INCENDIARY  FIRE. 

A  BED,  "wildly  flaming  glare  lit  up  the  sisters'  room,  wliich 
was  situated  within  the  cotirt.  The  bells  tolled ;  the  alarm- 
drum  was  sounding,  and  amid  a  horrible  din  of  human  voices, 
one  shrieking  above  another,  the  cries  of  "  Fire !  fire !  Help  ! 
help!  Water!  throw  it  here!  Quick!  Help! — Save  us!" 
seemed  to  fill  the  air.  Hertha  fancied  herself  still  dreaming, 
or  else  delirious  with  the  efiTect  of  the  sleeping  draught.  But 
a  glass  of  water  which  she  hastily  swallowed,  and  a  violent 
blow  upon  the  door,  together  with  the  words  "  Hertha !  Come 
out !  WiU  you  be  burned  in  your  bed  ?"  cleared  away  all  the 
mists  of  sleep.  She  opened  the  door.  Rudolph  stood  there, 
with  bewildered  looks.  "  Come !"  said  he,  "  come !  I  will  save 
you !" 

"  Help  me  to  save  Alma  first !"  said  Hertha,  at  once  calm 
and  decided. 

Rudolph  obeyed.  Hertha  hastily  flimg  on  her  sister's 
clothes,  wrapped  her  in  a  cloak,  and  led  her,  assisted  by  Ru- 
dolph, into  the  court.  Here  they  found  old  Aunt  Nella  and 
the  two  youngest  girls  trembling  and  crying,  and  almost  with- 
out clothes. 

A  quantity  of  furniture,  bedding  and  household  utensils,  had 
already  been  thrown  into  the  court,  which  was  thronged  with 
people. 

Hertha  removed  her  sisters  and  aimt  to  as  great  a  distance 
from  the  house  as  was  possible  in  the  court ;  and  desired  them 
to  wait  for  her  there.  This  done,  she  turned  towards  the 
burning  house  with  a  determined  countenance,  as  it' considering 
what  must  next  be  done.  The  whole  of  the  upper  portion  of 
the  house  was  on  fire,  and  wild  tongues  of  flame  flashed  from 
the  winiowa  of  the  second  story. 


120  THE  FOUR  SISTERS. 

"  My  father !"  exclaimed  Hertha,  "  where  is  my  father?" 

"  Thei-e !"  whispered  Rudolph  in  her  ear,  with  a  wild  sort 
of  insane  joy  flashing  in  his  eyes,  and  pointed  up  to  the  second 
story  of  the  house,  "  there !  where  the  fire  has  just  now  caught! 
He  cannot  escape !" 

"  Wretched  being  !  what  have  you  done  ?"  whispered  Her- 
tha in  reply,  as  a  horrible  idea  presented  itself  like  lightning 
to  her  soul. 

"  Free  yourself,  and — me  with  you  I"  returned  Rudolph. 
"  Come !  I  will  save  you !  I  will  carry  you  through  a  thousand 
fires !  "  And,  throwing  his  arms  round  her,  he  held  her  fast 
as  he  endeavored  to  force  her  away.  But  Hertha  thrust  him 
from  her  with  all  her  strength,  as,  with  a  flashing  glance,  she 
exclaimed,  "  Hence !  Begone  from  me  !  Save  him,  or — I 
will  never  see  you  more ! " 

At  that  moment  a  horrible  crash  was  heard.  A  portion  of 
the  roof  had  fallen  in,  and  volumes  of  thick  smoke  and  whirl- 
ing flame  burst  forth  from  the  abyss  which  was  thus  made. 
A  moment's  silence  and  astonishment  succeeded.  Then  was 
heard  a  wailing  and  an  agonized  cry  for  help,  Hke  that  of  a 
weak  old  man  or  of  a  child.  It  seemed  to  proceed  from  that 
part  of  the  house  over  Avhich  the  roof  had  fallen. 

Another  cry  answered  it  from  the  court  below ;  a  strong 
cry,  sounding  like  "  Yes !"  full  of  resolution  and  strength, 
and  a  yoimg  girl  rushed  into  the  burning  house.  It  was 
Hertha.  Rudolph  was  about  to  follow  her  steps,  but  a  rafter 
which  fell  from  the  burning  roof  struck  him  on  the  head.  He 
stumbled  backwards,  fell,  and  remained  for  some  time  without 
consciousness. 

Old  Falk  had  been  sound  asleep  over  his  treasures, 
beneath  his  pillow,  when  he  was  awaked  by  the  cry  of  fire  and 
the  tumult  in  the  street  below.  The  chamber  in  which  he  lay 
was  full  of  a  stifling  smoke,  which  made  his  brain  dizzy,  and 
almost  took  away  his  breath.  His  first  movement  was  to 
seize  his  cash-box,  and  with  this  in  his  hand,  he  raised  himself 
in  bed,  and  tried  to  collect  his  senses.  He  called  his  faithful 
old  servant  by  her  name,  but  received  no  answer.    With  dif- 


THE   FOUR   BISTERS.  121 

ficiilty  he  raised  himself  to  his  feet,  and  endeavored  to  reach 
the  door  which  opened  into  the  dining-room.  But  his  brain 
reeled,  and  his  feet  could  not  support  him.  He  fell,  and  crept 
from  where  he  fell,  on  hands  and  knees,  to  the  dining-room 
door,  shovmg  before  him  his  precious  casket.  He  had  now 
reached  the  door,  but  both  head  and  hands  refused  their 
office,  when  he  attempted  to  stand  iipright.  He  called  the 
old  servant ;  he  called  Rudolph,  and  terror  made  his  voice 
loud  and  strong,  but  no  voice  replied  to  his,  and  no  hand  im- 
fastened  the  bolted  door.  He  fancied  he  could  hear  wild 
shrieks  of  joy  and  derisive  laughter  in  the  room  beyond, 
mingled  \vith  the  roar  and  the  crackling  of  the  fire.  Every 
moment  the  heat  became  fiercer  m  the  chamber,  and  the  smoke 
thicker.  The  anguish,  as  of  death,  seized  on  the  old  man's 
heart — and  the  sweat  of  agony  burst  forth  from  his  forehead, 
as  in  the  depths  of  his  soul  he  seemed  to  hear  the  words  : 

"  Thou  fool,  this  night  shall  thy  soul  be  required  fi'om 
thee !" 

And  out  of  the  darkness  which  thickened  around  him,  he 
seemed  to  see  pale  countenances  looking  forth,  gloomy  and 
threatening ;  gazing  upon  his  torments.  He  knew  them  all 
again.  They  were  souls  which  had  been  intrusted  to  him  to 
protect  and  to  make  happy.  They  seemed  now  to  ask  him  how 
he  had  fulfilled  his  duty  towards  them.  Smoke  and  flames 
encircled  him,  nearer  and  nearer  every  moment.  He  felt 
himself  approaching  the  limits  of  life  and  beyond  that  he  saw 
nothing,  except  a  something,  shapeless,  indefinite,  threat- 
ening, horrible,  more  horrible  for  its  indefiniteness  than  the 
most  horrible  form  which  reality  could  present ;  a  some- 
thing unknown  and  yet  inevitable,  which  approached,  every 
moment,  nearer  and  nearer,  beyond  the  most  terrible  death. 

Terror  again  gave  hun  strength  and  consciousness  sufficient 
to  raise  himself  up,  seize  the  handle  of  the  door,  and  also  to 
open  it.  But  in  the  selfsame  moment  that  the  door  was 
opened  the  heat  smote  him  across  the  face,  and  a  horrible 
crackling  noise,  together  with  a  surge  of  smoke  and  flame 
which  filled  the  whole  apartment,  caused  the  wi'etched  old 


122  THE  POUR  BISTERS. 

man  to  fall  across  the  threshold,  and  for  the  first  time  forced 
a  cry  of  lamentation  and  prayer  out  of  that  hard  shut-up 
breast ! 

"  Lord,  my  God !  wilt  thou  thus  sufter  me  to  die  ?  Lord, 
my  God,  have  mercy  upon  me  !  Help,  help !" 

And  his  hands  for  one  moment  released  their  hold  of  the 
cash-box,  that  they  might  be  clasped  together  in  an  agonized, 
death-agonized  jjrayer. 

Again  a  frightful  crackhng  noise  of  burning  was  heard  iu 
the  room.  The  opposite  door  was  flung  open,  and  there, 
enveloped  in  smoke  and  flame,  stood,  not  the  angel  of  judg- 
ment ;  but,  like  an  angel  of  dehverance,  the  old  man's  daugh- 
tei',  Hertha. 

He  stretched  towards  her  his  trembUng  hands.  She  rushed 
forward  to  him  and  raised  him  in  her  arms.  She  never  had 
beUeved  herself  so  strong  as  now,  nor  ever  had  she  been  so. 
She  carried  her  father  through  the  burning  dining-room. 
His  trembling  hands  grasped  convulsively  the  precious 
money-box 

"  There  is  yet  time !"  said  Hertha,  encouraging  and  com- 
forting him.  "  Be  not  afraid,  my  father  !  We  soon  shall  be 
out  in  the  open  air." 

The  flames  almost  choked  the  assurance  on  her  tongue, 
and  seemed  as  if  they  would  bar  her  onward  advance. 
They  scorched  her  cheeks  and  her  clothes,  but  she  staggered 
not  nor  hesitated. 

"  Courage,  courage,  my  father !"  whispered  she  as  she 
bore  onward  her  precious  burden  through  the  midst  of  raging 
fire,  as  calmly  and  resolutely  as  if  no  death-peril  were  at  hand. 
She  knew  of  a  certainty,  she  felt  it  "v\dthin  herself,  that  she 
should  save  her  father.  The  flames  stretched  out,  hissing 
behind  her,  their  serpent-like  tongues ;  soon  they  no  longer 
reached  her.  She  went  steadily  down  the  long  flight  of 
stairs  ;  the  roof  of  the  dining-room  falling  in  behind  her. 

When  Hertha  descended  the  steps  from  the  lobby  into  the 
court,  beai'ing  her  father  in  her  arms,  the  people  hurraed  and 
waved  their  hats.    Then,  and  not  till  then,  her  limbs  failed 


THE   FOUK   SISTERS.  123 

her ;  she  sank  down  upon  her  knees,  but  did  not  loose  hold  of 
the  burden  which  she  bore.  Faithful  as  a  mother  who  holds 
her  child  clasped  to  her  breast,  held  she  her  father,  with  her 
eyes  fixed  only  on  him.  He  appeared  almost  unconscious. — 
She  drew  a  deep  and  strong  breath. 

"  We  are  saved,  father,"  whispered  she,  "  breathe,  breathe, 
my  father !" 

People  crowded  round  them,  and  conveyed  them  from  the 
immediate  neighborhood  of  the  flames,  to  the  spot  where  the 
rest  of  the  family  were  assembled.  The  old  man,  by  degrees, 
regained  the  use  of  his  senses ;  but  tho  violent  shock  which 
his  nerves  had  sustained  caused  a  tremor  of  the  whole  body, 
and  when,  not  without  emotion,  he  had  pressed  all  his  chil- 
dren to  his  heart,  he  sat  gazing  immovably,  and  without  utter- 
ing a  word,  at  his  consuming  property. 

Hertha,  having  drimk  a  glass  of  water,  appeared  perfectly 
restored,  and  immediately  busied  herself  in  preparing  hand- 
barrows  and  bearers,  and,  having  made  beds  with  mattresses 
and  coverlets,  on  which  to  lay  her  father  and  Alma,  had 
them  conveyed  from  the  scene  of  conflagration.  She  and 
the  others,  old  Anna  among  the  rest, — who  had  gone  to  sleep 
that  night  by  the  kitchen  fire,  instead  of  her  own  room, 
adjoining  the  chamber  of  her  master,  whence  it  happened 
that  she  was  not  within  his  call, — now  all  left  the  court.  The 
fire  had  already  caught  several  houses  in  the  neighborhood, 
and  these  now  also  were  burning  with  a  violence  which  defied 
every  attempt  at  extinguishing  it.  The  inhabitants  fled  fi-om 
all  the  houses  in  the  neighborhood  of  this  growing  destruc- 
tion ;  they  threw  from  the  Avindows,  bedding,  mirrors,  earth- 
enware, in  the  wildest  confusion.  The  fire,  the  terror,  the 
throng,  and  the  tumult  increased  every  moment. 

Hertha,  who  observed,  by  the  direction  in  which  the  flames 
were  driven  by  the  wind,  that  the  fire  would  probably  extend 
to  the  northern  portion  of  the  town,  which  consisted  in  great 
measure  of  wooden  houses,  immediately  turned  her  steps, 
with  those  of  her  family,  in  the  opposite  direction,  across  a 
bridge  which  spanned  the  river  Klar,  to  a  meadoAV,  planted 


124  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

\ 

with  trees,  outside  the  town,  where  the  inhabitants  amused 
themselves  in  the  summer,  and  which  was  called  the  King'a 
field.  Many  of  those  who  were  already  homeless,  or  who 
feared  to  become  so,  followed  her  example.  And  they  who 
did  so,  did  well.  Because  they  who  removed  with  their  res- 
cued property  to  houses  or  to  situations  near  to  the  fire,  had 
a  second  time  to  leave  their  places  of  refuge  for  others  more 
remote  from  the  increasing  conflagration.  The  wind  unfortu- 
nately rose,  and  blew  violently,  so  that  the  flames  were  driven 
onward,  in  stUl  more  terrible  career,  from  house  to  house, 
fi'om  lane  to  lane.  The  wooden  dwellings  were  consumed 
like  tinder. 

And  now  again  was  exhibited,  both  as  regarded  the  extin- 
guishing of  the  fire  and  the  work  of  removing  and  saving  the 
inhabitants  of  the  burning  houses,  the  method  which  on  so 
many  similar  occasions  has  distinguished  the  temperament  and 
habit  of  the  Swedes,  and  which  we  have  already  spoken  of  and 
designated  as  "  the  hand-over-head-method,"  but  which  in  this 
particular  case  was  governed  by  no  kmd  of  internal  harmony. 
The  superior  authorities  of  the  town,  the  sherifi"  of  the  district, 
and  the  Burgomaster,  could  not  agree  as  to  the  mode  by 
which  the  fire  should  be  extinguished.  The  fire-engines  were 
found  either  not  to  be  at  hand  or  else  they  were  out  of  order ; 
many  of  the  hose  were  utterly  useless ;  water  was  called  for, 
but  none  came  ;  many  commanded,  but  nobody  obeyed ;  and 
perhaps  could  not  obey  because  the  commands  were  issued  in 
the  most  bewdldering  confusion,  hither  and  thither,  now  this 
and  now  that.  Besides  which,  a  great  number  of  persons 
became,  in  the  terror  of  that  awful  fire,  perfectly  confiised  in 
their  understanding.  One  tall  strong  man  was  seen  busily 
occupied  in  saving  a  doll's  chest  of  drawers,  another  hurried 
along  the  streets  with  an  empty  drinking-glass  in  his  hand,  a 
third  wheeled  out  of  the  tOAvn  four  bundles  of  fire-wood  in  a 
wheelbarroAV  ;  one  old  lady  rushed  out  of  her  house  with  her 
bunch  of  keys  in  her  hand,  and  a  young  lady,  too  hurried  to 
attire  herself,  carried  a  ball-dress  on  her  arm. 

Many  worthless  people  availed  themselves  of  the  horror 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  125 

and  confusion  of  the  time  to  plunder  and  carry  aT\ay  the 
property  of  others.  And  none  were  found  to  guard  against 
this  mischief  Many  good  citizens,  who  did  not  lose  their 
presence  of  mind,  made  xmheard-of  efforts  to  extinguish  the 
fire  and  save  hoth  life  and  property  from  its  destruction ;  but 
these  were  either  each  one  for  himself,  or  they  were  in 
detached  groups,  so  that  system  and  co-operation  were 
wanting  altogether. 

In  the  meantime  the  fire  advanced  in  its  destructive  career 
with  the  increasing  wind.  Before  morning  had  dawned,  every 
one  of  the  lanes  opening  into  the  street  in  which  stood  the 
house  of  the  Talks,  as  far  as  the  large  market,  was  a  heap  of 
smouldering  ashes,  and  soon  after,  the  market  itself  was 
burning  at  every  corner.  The  new  Assembly  House,  with  its 
splendid  ball-room,  where  the  great  fancy  ball  was  to  take 
place,  the  anticipation  of  which  had  made  so  many  a  young 
heart  beat  with  joyful  hope,  took  fire,  and  the  flames  danced 
as  if  with  joy  through  the  spacious  apartment,  devouring  all 
the  new  silken  curtains  and  furniture,  melting  the  splendid 
chandelier,  and  turning  to  ashes  all  the  gilding  and  the  other 
grandeur.  An  hour  afterwards,  and  the  great  house  oppo- 
site was  also  burning — that  very  house,  where,  the  evening 
before,  gods  and  goddesses  chatted  so  merrily  together. 
The  silver-haired  golden-wedded  pair,  the  handsome  host  and 
hostess,  with  their  young  daughters,  the  seven  Miss  Dufvas, 
stood  houseless  in  the  market-place,  and  saw  their  comfortable 
home  become  a  prey  to  the  flames. 

In  the  course  of  the  forenoon  all  the  houses  in  the  market- 
place were  burning,  and  the  fire  flung  itself  down  into  the 
streets  and  lanes  Avhere  the  poorer  portion  of  the  town's  popu- 
lation dwelt.  Presently  it  had  reached  the  Great  Quarter, 
that  great  nibbish-quarter,  as  Mimmi  Svanberg  called  it,  and 
a  whole  mass  of  miserable  old  men  and  women,  ragged  queans 
"with  their  streaming  hair,  and  half-naked  children,  poured 
forth  pell-mell,  together  "svith  piles  of  broken  furniture,  halvea 
of  tables  and  fragments  of  chairs,  tattered  bedding,  coffee- 
mills,  dirty  buckets ;  every  three-fourths  of  the  whole  being 


126  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

nameless  indescribable  tilings,  in  chaotic  confusion.  The  con- 
fusion among  the  laborers  at  the  fire  became  also  still  greater 
and  greater.  Many  grew  weary  of  their  work,  when  they  saAV 
that  the  fire  only  increased  more  and  more.  Many  also  had 
become  pitiless,  and  not  seldom  were  heard  in  reply  to  prayers 
for  help  or  succor  the  cruel  words,  "  It  is  no  business  of  mine !" 
or  "  You  may  do  it  yourself!" 

No  one  commanded,  no  one  obeyed  any  longer.  People 
rushed  about  everywhere,  and  saved  what  they  could,  and  let 
the  fire  and  fate  take  their  own  course. 

"To-day  it  is  come  to  pass  that  the  gentleman  and  the 
servant  are  all  as  one.  He  that  will  work,  does  so ;  and  he 
who  will  not,  lets  it  alone !"  said  a  working  man,  whose  whole 
appearance  proved  how  unceasingly  and  bravely  he  himself 
labored ;  "  but  then  you  see,"  added  he,  "  I  can't  think,  for 
my  part,  how  anybody  can  let  working  alone !"  And  so  say- 
ing, he  again  hurried  out  to  render  assistance  wherever  he 
saw  that  it  was  needed. 

It  was  the  pastor's  man-servant,  the  respectable  Jacob,  who 
now  saw  the  cause  of  his  mistress's  premonition,  and  contended 
resolutely  against  its  sad  reahty. 

The  reality  exhibited  a  surging  ocean  of  flame,  heaving  in 
the  wind  and  spreading  on  all  sides ;  a  tumultuous  mass  of 
terrified  and  houseless  people  flying  "with  children  and  house- 
hold stuff"  out  of  the  burning  town  mto  the  King's-field,  where 
now  safety  from  the  devouring  element  could  only  be  looked 
for. 

In  the  midst  of  this  press  of  people,  and  this  confusion  of 
ruin,  an  elderly  lady,  around  whose  person  a  mass  of  parti- 
colored garments  fluttered  like  feathers,  in  the  wuid,  might  be 
seen,  wildly  seeking  something,  and  hurriedly  inquiring  right 
and  left : 

"  Have  you  seen  my  noble  young  lady  ?  Can  no  one  tell 
me  which  way  my  young  lady,  the  Honorable  Miss  Krusbjorn, 
is  gone  ?" 

"  Oh,  she's  gone  straight  down  the  fire  and  brimstone  pit  !'* 
said  a  working  man,  who  wished  to  be  witty. 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  121 

**  No,"  said  another,  "  I  saw  her  posting  off  to  heaven,  right 
out  of  the  fire,  with  outstretched  arms  and  streaming  hair, 
and  she  kept  shrieking,  '  My  noble  lady !  my  noble  lady !'  so 
there  need  be  no  wailing  about  her !" 

"  And  I,"  said  a  third,  "  I  saw  her  running  out  of  the 
town,  with  a  butter-tub  \mder  one  arm  and  a  huge  cheese 
under  the  other.  She  must  be  at  Stockholm  by  this  time,  so 
as  she  ran !  " 

"That  must  have  been  before  she  set  off  to  heaven," 
remarked  the  former,  "because  I  can  swear  that  I  saw  a 
noble  young  lady,  who  looked  the  very  image  of  a  curly 
bear,*  and  who " 

"  Ah !  jo\i  are  a  parcel  of  good-for-nothing  fellows,  and  you 
are  telling  Ues  altogether !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Tupplander,  for 
it  was  she.  "  Oh,  my  unfortunate  young  lady !  Where  is  she  ? 
where  is  she?  Can  nobody  tell  me  where  the  Honorable 
Miss  Krusbjorn  is  gone  !" 

Two  ladies  were  now  standing  on  the  Httle  bridge  which 
crossed  the  river  Klar,  watching  the  fire.  They  were  the 
pastor's  wife,  Mrs.  Dahl,  and  Mimmi  Svanberg. 

"  Ah,  my  presentiment !"  said  the  former,  "  I  felt  such  an 
evident  impression  last  evening,  that  a  great  misfortune  hung 
over  the  town.     The  poor,  poor  people  ! " 

A  hand  Hghtly  touched  the  shoulder  of  the  pastor's  wife, 
and  a  gentle  voice  said,  "  This  is  a  terrible  sight,  dear  Mrs. 
Dahl,  What  is  to  be  done  ?  Could  we  not  help  the  poor 
creatures  one  way  or  other  ?" 

The  pastor's  wife  turned  roimd  and  recognised  the  young 
and  lovely  Countess  P.,  who,  dressed  in  a  quilted  petticoat, 
with  silk  shoes  on  her  feet,  and  a  shawl  over  her  head,  had 
hastened  from  the  house,  which  they  inhabited  for  a  time,  and 
was  now  on  her  way  to  the  fire. 

"  Of  a  certainty  we  ought  to  do  so,"  said  the  ever-ready 
Mimmi  Svanberg,  "  at  least,  I,  who  am  strong.  The  Countess 
and  Mrs.  Dahl  I  think  would  do  best  not  to  stand  here  and 

*  Krusbjorn. 


128  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

run  the  risk  of  taking  cold,  but  go  home  and  order  coffee  and 
soup  to  be  made  for  the  poor  suiFerers,  for  I  fancy  there  will 
soon  be  great  need  of  it.  I  have  ordered  my  Lovisa  to  set  on 
the  large  coffee-jjot — I  left  papa  himself  busy  grinding." 

"  Ah,  good  heavens !  have  you  none  of  you  seen  my  noble 
young  lady !"  cried  a  shrill,  despairing  voice,  and  the  three 
ladies  presently  beheld  Mrs.  Tupplander,  in  a  costume  almost 
as  remarkable  as  her  looks  were  wild,  commg  towards  them, 
as  if  on  flying  feathers.     "  Where,  where  can  she  be  gone  ?" 

"  Where  Avas  she  when  you  saw  her  last,  dear  Mrs,  Tupp- 
lander?" asked  Mimnii  Svanberg. 

"  Ah,  she  was  in  the  midst  of  my  salting-tubs,"  rephed  Mrs. 
Tupplander,  "because,  although  the  fire  had  not  reached  ray 
house,  yet  it  might  do  so  without  giving  any  notice,  and, 
therefore,  I  resolved  to  get  all  my  things  into  a  place  of 
safety ;  and  I  and  all  my  people  carried  off  what  we  could. 
But  just  as  I  thought  that  we  had  got  most  of  the  things  safe, 
and  that  Miss  Krusbjorn  should  keep  watch  over  them,  she — • 
was  nowhere  to  be  found,  and  nobody  can  tell  me  where  she 
is  gone !  But  when  I  saw  her  last  she  was  among  the  saltuig- 
tubs ! " 

"  Then  she  will  come  there  again,"  said  Mimrai  Svanberg, 
consoUngly ;  "  because,  if  she  has  once  safely  escaped  the  fire, 
she  "\nll  assiiredly  not  run  into  it  again." 

"  Yes,  but  who  knows  that  ?"  said  Mrs.  Tupplander,  refusing 
to  be  comforted  ;  "  the  fire  makes  people  lose  then*  wits ! 
Ah,  my  poor  Krusbjorn  !     My  poor  young  lady  !" 

"I  will  go  and  give  orders  for  making  soup,"  said  the 
pastor's  •wife ;  "  that  is  a  good  idea.  Fortunately  we  have 
lately  killed  a  bullock," 

"  And  I  will  order  both  soup  and  coffee,"  said  the  young 
Countess  ;  "  but  now  I  should  like  to  help  the  poor  people  to 
save  their  things.  Look,  there  are  two  young  girls,  who  are 
carrying  a  bed,  and  almost  staggering  under  their  load. 
There  is  certainly  a  sick  pei-son  in  the  bed.  Let  us  help 
them!" 

In  the  bed  lay  a  poor,  old  sick  woman  from  the  Great 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  129 

Rubbish  Quarter.  She  lay  crippled  witli  rheumatism,  and 
heard  the  tumult  of  the  fire,  and  saw  the  flames  thrust  their 
fiery  tongues  through  the  cracks  of  the  walls,  and  thought  to 
herself,  "  I  must  be  burned  here  in  my  bed,  because  nobody 
■will  think  of  me,  poor  wretch  !" 

Biit  two  very  yomig  ghis — "yoimg  baggages,"  as  they 
are  called  in  the  quarter,  because  their  clothes  were  ragged, 
and  they  could  not  get  into  service  for  want  of  better  clothing 
• — they  thought  of  the  poor  old  creature,  and  one  said  to  the 
other : 

"  Let  us  go  and  save  the  poor  soul !" 

And  with  that  they  burst  open  the  door,  carried  out  the 
bed  in  which  was  the  old  woman,  and  so  through  the  burning 
streets  in  the  direction  of  the  King's-field ;  but  the  bed  was 
heavy,  and  they  w^ere  nearly  sinkmg  beneath  their  burden, 
when  two  ladies  were  seen  hastening  towards  their  aid. 
These  were  Mimmi  Svanberg  and  the  young  Countess. 
With  their  help  the  old  woman  was  brought  into  the  field, 
in  safety  fi'om  the  flames,  and  the  Countess  took  off  her  own 
shawl  to  defend  her  from  the  cold,  whereupon  she,  spite  of 
all  her  protestations,  was  wi'apped  in  the  woollen  jacket  which 
Mimmi  Svanberg  wore  under  her  cloak.  After  that  the  two 
hastened  to  help  others  who  also  were  heavily  laden. 

Every  moment  increased  the  number  of  the  houseless  who 
fled  to  the  Kang's-field. 

And  with  every  moment  the  conflagration  grew ;  and  the 
•wind  rose  more  and  more.  It  was  an  awful  and  a  sorrowful 
eight.  Nevertheless,  it  was  impossible  for  Mimmi  Svanberg 
to  avoid  smiling,  as  she  saw  Mrs.  Tupplaiider  fluttering  about 
in  her  extraordinary  costume,  seeking  among  the  crowds  of 
fugitives,  and  incessantly  crying,  "  My  noble  young  lady ! 
Has  nobody  seen  my  noble  young  lady !"  Sometimes  she 
shrieked  aloud  in  a  shrill  voice,  "Miss  Krusbjorn  !"  But  no 
voice  rephed. 

The  Countess  P.  and  Munmi  Svanberg  had  now  met  with 
an  active  fellow-worker  in  their  Samaritan  labors.      This  was 
Hertlia,  who  had  no  sooner  seen  her  own  family  in  safety, 
8 


130  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

grouped  at  the  foot  of  a  large  oak-tree,  than  she  hastened  to 
render  all  the  help  in  her  power  to  other  homeless  people. 

It  was  noon,  and  no  bounds  were  set  to  the  destructive 
element,  which  seemed  as  if  it  might  extend  its  ravages  over 
the  whole  of  the  town.  The  mass  of  the  people  and  the  town 
authorities  were  now  ahke  without  courage  or  counsel,  and 
scarcely"  any  further  attempts  were  made  to  stem  the  tide  of 
destruction. 

At  the  distance  of  six  English  miles  from  the  town  were 
working,  this  very  morning,  fifty  men  on  the  new  railway, 
under  command  of  Lieutenant  Nordin. 

"  There  is  a  fire  at  Kungskoping !"  said  he  to  the  navvies, 
"  and  it  seems  to  me  that  they  are  in  want  of  a  good  deal  of 
help.  I  have  seen  a  tremendous  smoke  ever  since  day-break, 
and  it  appears  to  increase,  rather  than  otherwise.  I  shall  go 
there,  and  any  of  you  lads,  who  Hke  to  go  with  me,  are 
welcome.  I  should  be  glad  to  say  to  any  such,  that  they 
should  have  their  day's  wages.  But  that  I  cannot  do,  because 
it  is  tolerably  certain  that  they  will  have  nothing  for  their 
trouble." 

Every  one  of  the  fifty,  immediately  and  without  hesitation, 
accompanied  their  young  and  beloved  overseer. 

In  about  two  hours  they  were  on  the  spot.  Yngve  ISTordin, 
and  a  couple  of  his  acquaintances,  hastily  arranged  a  plan  for 
preventing  the  progress  of  the  fire ;  and  when  the  fifty  fresh 
pair  of  aiTiis,  which  Yngve  had  brought  with  him,  unani- 
mously and  vigorously  obeyed  their  commander,  a  new  turn 
was  soon  given  to  the  work  of  extinguishing  the  fire.  It 
began  really  to  abate,  and  its  fmther  progress  seemed  stayed. 
Nevertheless,  they  were  met  by  unforeseen  difficulties,  partly 
through  the  failing  supply  of  water,  and  partly  through  the 
want  of  harmony  among  the  city  authorities. 

For  instance,  a  number  of  young  navvies  had  succeeded  m 
raising  a  sail-cloth  to  the  roof  of  a  house  which  stood  in  the 
corner  of  a  narrow  lane,  and  just  opposite  to  one  which  was 
burning  furiously.  They  considered  themselves  perfectly  sure 
of  saving  this  house,  and  a  whole  row  of  others.     There  they 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  131 

sat  upon  the  roof,  pouring  torrents  of  Avater  over  tlicir  sail- 
clotli,  when  orders  came  from  the  magistrates  that  the  sail- 
cloth must  be  taken  clown,  in  order  to  be  placed  upon  another 
house  which  was  already  on  fire.  The  young  fellows  ventured 
to  act  in  opposition  to  the  authorities  assembled  in  the  market- 
place. The  magistrates'  messenger  was  sent  crest-fallen  away, 
and  they  still  sat  triumphantly  on  the  roof.  But,  as  a  matter 
of  com'se,  they  were  the  minority ;  the  majority  in  the  lane 
below  were  determined  to  have  their  own  way;  the  navvies 
were  obhged  to  loosen  their  ropes  and  give  up  their  own 
schemes.  The  sail-cloth  was  carried  oif  in  triumph,  and  the 
end  of  it  was,  tnat  the  house  itsehf,  and  many  others  near  it. 
together  with  tJie  sail-cloth,  were  all  consumed. 

"  We  must  pull  down  that  house,"  said  Nordin,  an  hour 
later,  speaking  with  decision  to  the  magistrate,  and  pointing 
to  a  house  which  had  not  yet  taken  fire,  but  was  so  situated  as 
to  render  such  a  step  necessary. 

"  PuU  it  down !"  exclaimed  the  other,  almost  shedding 
tears ;  "  surely  it  is  quite  enough  for  the  houses  to  be  burnt 
down  without  our  pulling  them  down.  No,  that  shall  never 
be  done  as  long  as  I  five!" 

Ynge  was  obliged  to  restrict  his  operations  to  the  well- 
directed  use  of  tne  fire-engine  tubes.  He  put  himself  at  the 
head  of  this  part  of  the  business,  he  himself  working  one  of 
the  hose.     But  now  water  failed  them. 

"  Be  so  good  as  to  let  us  have  some  water  here  !"  said  he  to 
a  gentleman  who  stood  quite  calmly  at  a  short  distance  from 
him,  watching  the  fire,  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  "  we  must 
have  more  water  here  immediately,  otherwise  we  cannot  save 
this  house." 

"  It  is  no  business  of  mine !"  rephed  Mr.  Von  Tackjern. 
"  I  don't  trouble  myself  about  anybody's  house  but  my  own, 
and  that  stands  safe  yonder.  That  is  the  house  I  keep  watch 
over." 

"  Certainly,  your  house  is  not  yet  in  danger,  and  with  God's 
help  it  shall  not  be  so,"  said  Yngve ;  "  you  can,  therefore, 
wittoat  any  risk,  go  and  see  after  water." 


132  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

"  Go  yourself,  and  the  clevil  take  you !"  replied  the  surly 
and  selfish  proprietor  of  the  unendangered  house. 

Yngve  Nordin,  as  quick  as  lightning,  gave  him  a  box  on  the 
ear,  and  was  just  about  to  rush  after  water  hunself,  when  a 
voice  in  the  crowd  exclaimed : 

"  Stay  where  you  are  ! — in  a  moment  water  shall  be  here !" 

The  voice  was  that  of  a  woman  ;  it  was  Hertha's.  She  and 
Mimmi  Svanberg,  in  the  course  of  their  work  of  salvation,  had 
been  brought  to  this  place,  and  Jaad  thus  heard  the  altercation 
between  the  two  gentlemen. 

Before  many  minutes  were  over,  Hertha  returned  with  a 
liand-water-cart,  which  she  herself  drew. 

In  the  meantime,  Mimmi  Svanberg  saw  Mr.  Von  Tackjern 
talking,  in  an  under-voice,  to  a  strong-limbed,  coarse-looking 
working-man,  to  whom  he  gave  some  money.  On  this  the 
man  nodded  assentingly,  and  immediately  as.  Nordin,  who 
continued  to  direct  the  hose,  turned  round  to  look  after  the 
much  needed  water,  he  received  so  violent  a  blow  between  the 
eyes  fi-om  this  hired  ruffian,  that  the  spectacles  which  he  wore, 
on  account  of  being  near-sighted,  were  smashed  on  his  flxce. 
Without  staggering  or  pausing  a  moment,  Nordin  returned 
him  so  heavy  a  blow  on  the  side  of  his  head  as  to  knock  him 
down,  after  which  he  slunk  off,  uttering  imprecations.  Nordin, 
near-sighted  as  he  was,  seemed,  in  the  meantime,  helpless, 
although,  fortunately,  his  eyes  were  uninjured  by  the  blow, 
and  fortunately,  also,  he  was  not  improvided  for  in  case  of 
accident.  "With  the  utmost  calmness,  as  if  nothing  unplea- 
sant had  occurred,  he  took  a  second  pair  of  spectacles  from  his 
pocket,  and  turned  himself  again  to  work. 

When,  however,  he  was  about  to  retake  the  pipe,  he  saw, 
to  his  surprise,  that  it  was  in  the  hand  of  a  young  woman, 
who  was  not  for  the  moment  directing  it  upon  the  fire,  but 
upon  the  fellow  who  had  dealt  the  insidious  bloAv,  and  the 
person  who  had  hired  him.  Both  rushed  away  fi-om  tlie  unex- 
pected dusch-bath.  Hertha  laughed,  and  then  directed  the 
mouth  of  the  hose  against  the  fire.  But  the  enraged  fellow 
tm-ned  again,  and  was  rushing  towards  her,  uttering  a  volley 


Tl!E    FOLK    SISTERS.  133 

of  insult,  when  once  more  she  du-ected  the  pipe  against  his 
mouth,  and  the  torrent  of  water  drowned  its  coarse  abuse, 
after  which  it  was  again  turned  to  the  flames. 

Yngve,  who  immediately  recognised  Hcrtha,  stood  for  a 
few  minutes  the  silent  spectator  of  her  deeds,  and  seemed  to 
have  great  enjoyment  in  thus  watching  her.  But  Avhen  he 
saw  the  sparks  of  fire  fall  upon  her  beautiful  plaits  of  hair,  for 
the  handkerchief  which  had  been  tied  on  her  head  had  fallen 
back  upon  her  shoidders,  he  took  off  his  cap  and  put  it  on  her 
head. 

"  You  work  well,  comrade,"  said  he,  smiling,  and  with  a 
tone  that  expressed  heartfelt  esteem,  as  he  took  the  hose  from 
her  hand,  "but  your  hand  is  not  strong  enough  for  this 
work ;  it  is  better  suited  to  mine.  Thank  you  for  the  help 
you  have  given." 

"  If  I  can  be  of  any  use  here,  say  so  at  once,"  said  Hertha, 
replacing  the  cap  on  his  head,  and  drawing  the  handkerchief 
over  her  own. 

"Take  care,  if  possible,  that  there  is  no  want  of  water  here," 
said  Yngve,  "and  then,  vnih  God's  blessing,  we  sliall  soon 
put  an  end  to  the  fire." 

"  Good !  you  shall  not  want  water,"  said  Hertha,  hastening 
away.  She  talked  witli  several  of  the  unoccupied  ]>eople 
among  the  crowd,  and  succeeded,  by  her  earnest  words,  and 
her  animated  and  resolute  demeanor,  in  inducing  them  to 
assist  her,  and  in  this  manner  she  had  soon  organized  a  syste- 
matic and  regular  line  of  water  supply,  from  the  Klar  to  tliat 
part  of  the  conflagration  where  Nordin  and  his  men  wore 
working.  Already  the  fire  began  to  abate.  It  was  evid'jut 
to  all  who  were  near  that  this  was  the  most  important  point, 
and  that  if  the  fire  could  now  be  extinguished,  any  f n', !ier 
danger  of  its  progress  was  over. 

"Now  for  it,  my  lads!  "  said  Yngve.  "  Some  of  you  ixist 
mount  on  yonder  wall,  in  order  to  direct  the  w^ater  froi^i  t'lat 
elevation  upon  the  opposite  house.  If  you  can  extinguish  ilio 
fire  there,  all  is  riglit !" 

More  ready  or  braver-hearted  people,  in  the  hour  of  danger, 


134  THE  rouii  sisTP:iis. 

than  the  Swedish  working-classes,  are  nowhere  to  be  met 
with.  In  a  moment  the  men  were  seen  clambering  up  the  yet 
burning  ruins.  When  they  had  reached  the  top  of  the  wall 
they  raised  an  hurrah  of  trimnph.  The  force  of  the  water 
from  this  height  was  very  great. 

In  half  an  hour  the  conflagration  was  stayed ;  all  danger 
from  its  further  extension  was  over.  Again  they  hurrahed, 
standing  on  their  dangerous  elevation,  and  the  next  moment 
the  wall  fell,  with  all  its  array  of  brave  laborers.  An  hour 
afterwards  Yngve  Nordin  was  borne  away  from  the  smoking 
ruins  by  his  young  comrades,  with  one  knee  and  his  left  arm 
greatly  injured  by  the  falling  wall,  the  last  achievement  of  the 
fire.  But  he  would  not  consent  to  be  removed  from  the  spot 
before  he  had  collected  all  his  men  around  him,  and  convinc- 
ed himself  that  no  hves  were  lost  of  those  who  had  scaled  th*» 
wall.  He  took  counsel  with  the  physician  of  the  place  respect- 
ing such  as  were  injured,  and  having  arranged  everythmg  for 
their  comfort  and  well-being,  allowed  huuself  to  be  removed 
to  the  parsonage,  outside  the  town,  where,  during  the  time 
that  his  works  on  the  railway  would  keep  him  in  that  neigh- 
borhood, he  had  his  home. 

Night  came  down  ;  the  conflagration  was  stayed ;  the  drum 
beat  in  joyous  announcement ;  but  more  than  two  thousand 
V>ersons,  whom  the  tire  had  ruined,  or  rendered  homeless, 
vtmdered  about  the  town  or  in  the  fields  outside. 


THE   FOUR  SISTERS.  135 


NIGHT  IN  THE  KING'S-FIELD. 

The  greater  number  of  the  fugitives  were  assembled  iu  the 
Kiag's-field,  becavise  it  lay  nearest  to  the  portion  of  the  town 
in  which  the  fire  had  raged,  and  because  its  large  although  yet 
leafless  trees  aflforded  some  little  shelter. 

Gloomy  and  leaden  hung  the  sky  of  that  March  night  above 
the  still  burning  ruins  of  the  town.  Now  and  then  flames 
were  seen  to  leap  up  from  amid  masses  of  fallen  houses,  which 
flung  a  dreary  illumination  over  the  desolation  which  lay 
within,  and  the  sorrowful  spectacle  in  the  field  outside.  There 
might  the  miserable  fugitives  be  seen  wandering  about,  not 
knowing  what  to  do,  or  sitting  in  groups  keeping  watch  over 
then*  rescued  possessions,  many  with  their  heads  tied  up,  or 
with  bandaged  eyes  or  limbs,  testifyuig  of  their  too  close 
contact  with  the  fire,  and  all  pale,  dejected,  and  wearied  ;  the 
greater  part  of  them  hopeless  and  bewailing.  The  gloom  of 
the  night  seemed  only  to  increase  the  misery.  They  wei'e 
perished  with  cold ;  children  cried,  and  many  a  mother  had 
no  means  of  keeping  her  little  ones  warm  but  by  claspmg 
them  to  her  bosom.  Many  a  poor  wretch  seemed  perfectly 
stupified  by  dark  and  gloomy  despair.  In  vain  Mimmi  Svan- 
berg  and  the  young  Countess  went  from  one  to  another,  ofier- 
ing  them  warm  cofl'ee  and  bread,  and  a  comfortable  fire-side 
at  either  of  their  houses ;  nobody  was  thirsty  or  hungry ; 
nobody  was  willing  or  dared  to  leaA^e  their  rescued  household 
stuff.  They  thanked  the  kind  ladies  almost  with  indifl^erouce, 
and  continued  to  sit  staring  on  the  ground,  at  the  reeking 
ruins,  or  out  into  the  darkness.  The  wailing  of  the  children, 
now  and  then  a  cry  of  misery,  and  heavy  sighs  of  deep  anguish, 
alone  broke  the  melancholy  silence. 


136  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

Here  and  there  people  were  talkincj;  about  the  cause  and 
origin  of  the  fire  ;  dark  suspicions  Avere  uttered,  and  the 
'■vords,  "  it  was  done  on  purpose,"  were  whispered  from  one 
to  another.  Here  and  there  also  people  were  scheming  how 
they  best  could  take  advantage  of  the  darkness  and  the  con- 
I'usion  ;  and  Minimi  Svanberg  heard  a  mother  say  reproach- 
i'ully  to  her  son,  a  lad  often  years  old  : 

"If  you  were  only  like  a  fox  and  brought  home  what  you 
could  get,  then  you  would  be  worth  something  !" 

The  lowest  classes  of  the  town's  population,  so  long  left 
neglected  in  their  wretchedness  and  ignorance,  had  become 
dangerous,  and  the  better  classes,  both  of  the  poor  and  the 
i-ich,  were  afraid  of  them,  and  not  without  reason. 

Ilertha  had  succeeded  in  placing  her  family  in  a  certain 
degree  of  comfort.  The  father  and  the  invalid  sister  lay  on 
mattresses  at  the  foot  of  an  old  oak  tree.  The  yomiger  sisters 
■were  also  warmly  clad ;  and  little  Aunt  Nella  sat,  not  unlike 
a  great  bundle  of  rags,  restlessly  working  her  fingers  upon 
the  precious  portfolio,  in  which  lay  the  papers  of  the  great 
lawsuit,  and  puzzling  her  poor  brain  to  find  out  whether  this 
fire  would  not  deliver  her  from  some  of  its  involved  intrica- 
cies. 

Rudolph  had  been  unwearyingly  helpful  to  Hertha  in  ar- 
ranging all  in  the  best  possible  manner  for  the  comfort  of 
the  whole  family;  and  yet  Ilertha  Avould  not  reward  hua 
with  one  Tdnd  word,  nor  even  one  glance.  She  spoke  aftec- 
tiouately  to  her  little  sisters ;  she  wrapped  shawls  around  her 
father's  feet ;  she  warmed  Alma's  hands  in  her  bosom  and 
upon  her  cheeks  ;  she  looked  after  the  comfort  of  Aunt  Nella 
and  old  Anna  Avith  kind  solicitude  ;  for  all  she  had  words  of 
aft'ection  and  encouragement,  but  not  for  Rudolph,  although 
he  seemed  to  watch  for  her  eye,  as  the  faulty  and  chastised 
dog  watches  for  the  forgivmg  eye  of  his  master. 

The  Director  sat  almost  immovable,  gazing  towards  his 
burned-down  house,  and  his  lips  now  and  then  muttered,  as  if 
unconsciously,  the  thought  which  most  haunted  his  soul ;  "  It 
was  not  insured !"     He  continued  to  tremble  as  if  shivering 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  131 

•with  cold.     Now  and  tlu'ii  lie  convulsively  clutclied  at  his 
money-box. 

The  darkness  veiled  more  and  more  the  sorrowful  picture, 
but  no  sleep  visited  the  eyes  of  the  unfortunate  fugitives 
Snow-flakes  fell  and  mingled  themselves  with  the  ashes,  which 
the  night  wmd  scattered  over  their  heads  ;  dull,  lamenthig 
cries  and  sorrowful  groans  were  carried  by  it  across  the  field. 

All  at  once  a  strong  voice  was  lifted  up,  which  exclaimed  ; 
'"Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that  labor  and  are  heavy  laden,  and 
I  will  give  you  rest !'  thus,  my  afflicted  friends,  cried  iho 
Redeemer  to  you,  yesterday  and  to-day.  Listen  to  his 
message." 

At  this  unexpected  declaration  all  heads  were  raised.  But 
the  darkness  at  this  moment  was  so  dense  that  no  figure  could 
distinctly  be  seen,  no  one  could  discern  the  messenger.  All 
the  more  powerful,  therefore,  was  the  impression  produced  by 
those  words  which  resounded  across  the  field,  amid  the 
dismal  darkness  of  the  night,  from  the  lips  of  the  invisible 
preacher,  who,  with  a  voice  and  power  full  of  inspiration, 
conveyed  the  consolations  and  light  of  the  Gospel  to  those 
miserably  unhappy  people  sitting  in  the  midst  of  darkness  ; 
sho"\Wng  them  the  all-seeing  eye  of  the  Father  guarding  them 
in  the  gloom  of  night,  the  loving  Father's  heart  ready  to 
console  all,  to  help  all.  Never  did  any  sermon  improvised 
for  the  moment  produce  a  deeper  eflfect  upon  its  hearers. 
The  stupor  of  misery,  silent  despair,  and  gloom  passed  away 
from  the  soul ;  people  spoke  ;  they  wept ;  they  sobbed  aloud ; 
but  it  was  no  longer  because  they  were  inconsolable.  They 
were  profoundly  arrested,  they  were  unspeakably  affected  by 
the  thought  of  Him  who  bore  with  us  the  crown  of  thorns  and 
the  cross,  and  who  bore  them  for  our  •  salvation.  Never 
before  had  his  image  been  presented  so  clearly  and  brightly 
to  the  minds  of  the  listening  people.  They  poured  out  their 
emotions,  like  the  waves  of  a  surging  ocean,  in  sighs  and 
tears,  as  they  listened  to  the  powerful  and  faithful  discourse 
of  the  preacher.  All  at  once,  this  was  interrupted  by  a  wild 
ehriek  of  self-accusation : 


138  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

"It  was  I ;   it  was  I  who  caused  all  this  misery,  I ." 

Here  the  voice  was  silenced,  as  if  stifled  by  external  violence. 
The  darkness  prevented  its  being  known  from  whom  the  cry 
proceeded ;  but  some  persons  who  were  near  fancied  that 
they  saw  a  figure,  like  that  of  a  youth,  hastily  raise  itself,  as 
from  the  ground,  but  which  was  almost  as  hastily  dragged 
down  again  by  another  figure. 

Darkness  and  silence  again  covered  the  scene.  There  was 
a  moment  of  deep  and  breathless  silence.  All  seemed  to  be 
expecting  that  a  dark  mystery  was  about  to  be  revealed  ;  that 
the  author  of  the  fire  was  about  to  come  forward  to  avow  his 
guilt,  and  many  hands  were  involuntarily  in  motion  ready  to 
seize  upon  the  criminal.  They  waited,  one,  two,  three,  four, 
five  mmutes ;  but  all  remained  silent.  A  dull,  threatening 
murmur,  like  that  of  approaching  thunder,  was  then  heard 
rising  from  the  mass  of  people  in  the  field,  the  murmur 
from  a  thousand  breasts  and  lips ;  but  above  this  again  was 
raised,  loud  and  powerful,  the  mild  and  manly  voice  of  the 
first  speaker,  exclaiming : 

"  Should  there  be  here  any  guilt-burdened  heart  which 
would  accuse  itself  of  causing  accidentally,  or  by  design,  the 
misfortune  under  which  so  many  are  suiFering,  then — may 
God  have  mercy  upon  him !  We  desire  not  his  confession ! 
It  wo'dd  not  be  any  benefit  to  us.  It  might  make  others 
more  unfortunate  than  they  already  are.  Let  him  keep 
silence.  God  will  speak  as  a  judge  in  the  depths  of  his  heart. 
And  if  that  voice  should  become  more  terrible  than  he  can 
bear,  let  the  unhappy  one  remember,  that  the  Lord  our  God 
is  a  forgiving  God  ;  that  if  our  own  heart  accuses  us,  God  is 
still  greater  than  our  own  heart,  and  knows  all  things.  Let 
us  not  judge  one  another  !" 

At  this  moment  the  blush  of  morning  was  kmdled  in  the 
eastern  horizon,  on  the  other  side  of  the  desolated  town,  and 
its  rosy  light  gleamed  beautifully  against  the  dark  clouds. 
The  preacher  paused  for  a  moment  in  order  to  turn  the  minds 
of  his  hearers  from  thought  of  the  incendiary  to  that  of  the 
Redeemer. 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  139 

"  See,"  exclaimed  he,  "  see  the  sign  of  the  Redeemer  in  the 
sky ;  the  sun,  the  light  which  again  ascends  after  the  dark 
night.  Read  the  handwriting  of  fire  in  the  Heavens !  No 
night  without  a  mormL.g ;  no  sorrow  without  God's  mercy 
over  it !  As  the  Hght  comes  to  the  earth  so  comes  the  deli- 
verer, the  consoler  to  us.  Behold  His  light !  Listen  to  His 
words  and  His  promises.  My  fiiends,  let  us  stand  up  and 
praise  him  by  our  song,  '  Blessed  is  he  who  cometh  in  the 
name  of  the  Lord  ! '  " 

It  was  a  profoundly  afiecting  sight,  when  that  great  multi- 
tude of  people,  many  of  whom  had  lost  their  all  in  the  fire  ; 
hundreds  and  hundreds  of  men  and  women,  old  people  and 
children,  still  pale  and  bearing  the  traces  of  the  misfortune 
which  had  despoiled  them,  all  at  once,  as  if  impelled  by  a 
mighty  impulse,  rose  like  one  man,  and  under  the  guidance 
of  their  spiiitual  teacher  struck  up  the  glorious  hymn — 

"  Hosanna  to  the  Son  of  David." 

Higher  and  higher  ascended  the  flames  of  the  morning 
radiance,  diffusing  light  over  the  whole  country ;  and  still 
louder  and  more  powerful  became  the  song,  and  every  counte- 
nance, lately  so  pale  and  gloomy,  looked  now,  turned  towards 
the  ascending  light,  and  illumined  by  its  splendor,  like  a  choir 
of  redeemed  and  thanksgiving  spirits.  Tears  ran  plentifully 
from  many  an  eye,  but  there  was  no  longer  the  pang  of  des- 
pair. Many  a  year  hence  wUl  more  than  one  of  those  now 
present  testify,  "  For  all  that  of  which  the  fire  deprived  me, 
would  I  not  have  been  deprived  of  that  moment." 

Among  those  who  took  no  part  in  the  universal  transport 
of-devotion  was  Rudolph.  Hertha's  evident  abhorrence  of 
him,  and  the  sight  of  all  the  want  and  misery  which  the  con- 
flagration had  caused,  threw  a  terrible  light  on  the  dim 
consciousness  of  the  young  man's  mind.  He  now  felt  within 
bim,  impressed,  as  it  were,  in  fire  and  burning  flame,  the  per- 
ception of  the  criminality  of  a  deed  which,  according  to  the 
measure  of  his  dull  faculties,  was  merely  intended  for  the 
nberation  of  himself  and  his  beloved,  as  well  as  for  the  punish- 
meit  of  the  tyrant.    The  words  which  had  been  spoken  amid 


140  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

the  darkness  of  the  night,  tilled  as  it  was  with  sighs  and  lamen- 
tations, awoke  in  him  a  despairmg  desire  to  acknowledge  his 
guilt  and  to  die.  Hertha  would  weep  over  him ;  God  would 
forgive  him.  These  thoughts  opened  for  him  a  door  of  escape 
from  the  gulf  which  threatened  to  swallow  him  up,  and  hia 
newly-awakened  feehngs  broke  forth  m  a  cry  of  self-accusation, 
which  yet  failed  to  reveal  the  dark  mystery,  because  it  wag 
checked  by  the  hand  of  Hertha,  w^hich  suddenly  closed  his  lips. 

"  Silence  !  Will  you  be  the  death  of  me  ?  Silence,  or  I 
\W11  never  forgive  you  !  " 

With  these  words  she  drew  him  down  to  her  on  the  ground, 
and  talked  earnestly  to  him,  in  an  under  voice,  whilst  the 
heavens  tinged  themselves  with  rosy  light,  and  the  Hosanna- 
song  resounded  above  their  heads.  She  pressed  mto  his  hand 
the  small  sum  of  money  which  she  possessed,  and  which  she 
had  earned  by  her  own  labor,  together  with  her  only  trmket, 
a  Uttle  gold  cross,  which  she  had  inherited  fi-om  her  mother ; 
and,  before  the  hymn  had  ceased,  or  the  sun  had  arisen  above 
the  horizon,  Rudolph  was  no  longer  to  be  seen  on  the  Kmg's- 
field. 

The  singing  was  over,  and  the  throng  of  people  who  had 
risen  to  their  feet  in  the  inspiration  of  the  moment,  soon  again 
sank  down  to  earth,  and  to  the  troubles  and  wants  of  the  day. 
Again  were  seen  on  the  King's-field  the  three  ladies,  who  the 
evening  before  had  in  vain  oiFered  refreshment ;  they  were 
now  attended  by  two  girls,  who  bore  upon  a  yoke  on  their 
shoulders,  large  baskets,  containing  cofiee  and  bread.  The 
"  young  baggages  "  had  been  hastily  clothed,  and  now  resem- 
bled very  decent  young  women,  as  they  followed,  with  their 
huge  baskets  of  rye-bread,  Mimmi  Svanberg  and  her  compa- 
nions from  one  suffering  group  to  another,  distributing  the 
refreshing  beverage,  together  with  consolatory  and  encouraging 
words.  And  seldom  had  Mimmi  Svanberg  found  greater 
necessity  for  the  cheering  influence  of  her  hand  and  tongue. 

"  Good  morning,  my  dear  woman.  See  here,  drink  a  cup 
of  warm  cofiee  ;  it  will  cheer  you  up.  Yes,  it  is  a  great  niis- 
fortime ;  but  all  evil  in  this  world  passes  away.    Look,  here  is 


THE   FOUR  SISTERS.  141 

a  roll  to  clip  into  jowr  coffee.  Wliat  nice  little  children  you 
have !  It  was  of  God's  mercy  that  none  of  them  were  injured 
in  the  fire.  Yes,  one  has  always  something  to  be  thankful  for. 
But  such  children  as  these  always  bring  joy  wth  them.  See 
here,  little  ones,  you  shall  each  have  a  nice  wheaten  cake  and 
a  drop  of  coffee.  They  are  good,  are  they  not  ?  And  beau- 
tiiU  weather,  too,  we  shall  have  to-day.  After  a  storm  God 
always  lets  the  sun  shine." 

"  And,  good  Master  Smithson,  how  are  you  going  on  ? 
Badly  enough  I  see.  But  our  good,  clever  Doctor  Hedermann 
wiU  come  and  dress  your  burns,  and  then,  when  they  are  bet- 
ter, such  a  good,  clever  fellow  as  you  are,  will  soon  get  your 
forge  and  bellows  up  again,  and  you  will  have  a  great  deal  of 
work  to  do  when  the  town  comes  to  be  built  up.  It  will  be 
the  making  of  you,  Master  Smithson  ;  both  you  and  your 
family  vnil  be  three  times  as  well  off  as  before  !  Drink  a  cup 
of  coffee  on  the  strength  of  it,  and  take  a  roll  too.  Every  one 
is  the  smith  of  his  own  fortune.  Master  Smithson,  and  that 
you'll  find  one  of  these  days." 

"  Poor  Mother  Greta,  with  such  a  lot  of  fittle  ones !  Look, 
here  is  something  nourishing  both  for  you  and  them.  We 
wiU,  after  this,  have  a  famous  large  room  for  our  Infant 
School,  and  then  Mother  Greta  must  promise  to  let  the  chil- 
dren go  regularly  to  it.  It  won't  do  to  let  the  young  creatures 
be  running  about  the  streets,  as  they  have  done.  Look,  Uttle 
children,  there's  bread  and  warai  coffee  for  jon.  Now  you'll 
be  good  children  and  go  regularly  to  school ;  everything  wiU 
be  so  much  better  when  you  are  not  in  that  miserable,  unhealthy 
quarter.  There  is  no  misfortime  so  bad  but  that  some  good 
may  come  out  of  it.  And  we  must,  all  of  us,  try  to  brmg 
good  out  of  evil." 

"  And  now  good  morning  to  you,  old  mother  in  bed.  You 
Avon't  say  no  to  a  drop  of  coffee,  I  fanc3^  How  old  are  jon  ? 
Eighty  !  That  is  a  good  old  age.  You  can  do  with  two  cu])s, 
perhaps.  Drmk,  my  good  woman,  and  keep  your  heart  up ! 
It  will,  perhaps,  be  all  the  better  for  you  in  the  end.  Such  a 
misfortune  as  this  brings  you  under  the  notice   of  peo))lft. 


142  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

Look  you,  mother,  there  are  the  girls  that  carried  you  out  of 
the  fire.  They  have  got  nice  new  clothes  for  that,  and  both 
you  and  they  may  live  to  see  good  days  yet.  Our  Lord 
never  forgets  us,  and  everybody,  one  day  or  another,  finds 
that  out.     At  noon  I  shall  bring  you  some  warm  soup." 

"  Little  Mina !  God  bless  the  child !  There  you  sit  on 
your  poor  Uttle  legs !     How  did  you  come  here  ?" 

"  Mother  put  me  on  her  back  and  brought  me  here," 
replied  the  child. 

"  That  was  very  good  of  mother — that  it  was ;  but  she'll  be 
glad  of  it  some  day.  See,  here  is  some  breakfast  for  you, 
and  for  mother  and  httle  brother.  It  does  me  good,  child,  to 
see  you  look  so  cheerflil,  and  with  such  bright  eyes.  Don't 
you  think  it  is  a  very  sad  thing  to  be  sitting  here  in  the  open 
meadow  and  shivering,  without  either  house  or  home  ?" 

"  Oh,  yes :  it  was  a  good  deal  warmer  in  the  room ;  but 
the  sun  shines  so  bright  now,  and  we  have  had  such  beauti- 
ful singing !" 

"  You  are  a  good  child !  Look,  there  is  a  nice  twist  for 
you.  When  we  once  get  the  infant  school  rightly  afloat,  then 
you  shall  sing  with  the  children  there.  Don't  you  be  anxious 
about  Mina,  mother ;  she  Avill  be  smging  mistress  m  the 
school  some  day.  A  child  with  such  a  disposition  is  one  of 
God's  blessings." 

Li  this  way  refreshment  for  the  body  and  consolation  for 
the  heart  were  distributed  among  the  most  indigent  of  the 
homeless  throng  in  the  Kuig's-field,  by  those  three  kind 
women,  who,  during  the  forenoon,  found  many  fellow-laborers 
in  their  task,  both  gentlemen  and  ladies. 

Another  group,  also  of  three  persons,  had  been  busied 
among  the  afiiicted  on  the  King's-field  ever  since  simrise, 
afibrding  on  all  hands  help  and  comfort.  These  were,  the 
town's  physician.  Dr.  Hedermann,  attended  by  Plertha  Falk 
and  Ingeborg  Uggla.  He  examined  the  burns  and  injuries  of 
the  poor  sufierers,  which  were  then  treated  with  soothing 
medicaments  and  bound  up,  according  to  his  instructions,  by 
the  two  young  ladies.     These  three  moved  along  gravely,  and 


THE    FOrR   SISTERS.  143 

speaking  but  few  words ;  but  the  expressions  of  manly 
earnestness  and  compassion  in  the  countenance  of  the  noble 
physician  and  that  of  the  warmest  sympathetic  feeling  in  the 
two  ministering  ladies,  together  with  the  quietness  and  tender- 
ness of  their  movements,  made  them  beautiful  to  behold.  The 
countenances  which  appeared  plain  or  old  in  the  ball-room, 
here,  m  the  light  of  morning,  looked  young  and  beautiful,  a3 
if  in  a  renewed  youth.  More  than  one  remarked  this,  and 
Mimmi  Svanberg  rejoiced  silently  over  it,  because  she  it  was 
who  sent  her  friend,  the  good  Doctor,  the  two  assistants, 
whose  ability  and  disposition  she  knew. 

These  groups  formed  a  refreshing  contrast  to  the  scene 
which  the  King's-field  presented  at  daybreak.  It  was  that  of 
a  camp,  reminding  the  beholder  of  the  horror  and  desolation 
of  war. 

During  the  day  might  be  seen  many  pale  figures  wander- 
ing among  the  smoking  ruins  and  the  desolated  places  of  the 
town,  then'  countenances  impressed  with  woe,  seeking  for  what 
had  been,  or  for  what  still  remained  of,  their  former  houses. 

Near  to  the  spot  where  lay  the  ruins  of  their  former  com- 
fortable home,  stood  Mrs.  Christina  Dufva,  with  her  husband 
and  then-  chUdi-en. 

"  We  have  had,"  said  she,  "  happiness  and  prosperity  for 
so  many  years ;  may  it  then  not  be  needful  for  us  to  be  tried 
by  some  afiliction  ?  We  are,  however,  all  preserved  to  one 
another.  We  are  in  good  health — we  can  work.  Let  ns  not 
lament,  but  rather  thank  God  !" 

"  My  girls  !  my  doves !"  said  the  father,  "  thank  God  that 
I  have  you  all !" 

The  seven  young  girls  gathered  round  their  parents,  like  a 
flock  of  doves,  caressingly,  "  They  would  work  for  them,  they 
would  help  them,  and  one  another." 

Mrs.  Tupplander  also  in  the  early  morning  stole  to  her 
house,  which  she  found  untouched  by  the  flames.  The  first 
sight  which  met  her  eyes  struck  her  with  astonishment,  and 
for  the  first  moment  with  horror,  for  it  was  her  noble  young 
lady,  the  Honorable  Miss  Krusbjorn,  who  stood  there,-  living 


144  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

as  life  itself,  in  the  kitclieu — eating  bread  and  butter.  We 
will  draw  a  veil  over  the  eflects  of  the  re-union  and  the 
explanations  which  took  place. 

During  the  day  Mrs.  Uggla  also  went  abroad,  bewailmg 
herself  for  that  which  had  happened,  and  for  all  that  which 
would  yet  happen  ;  feeding  her  dismal  imagination  with  the 
most  gloomy  pictures  of  the  future  and  of  the  irremediablfc>- 
ness  of  all  AAa-etchediiess,  and — "  those  seven  Miss  Dufvas — for 
them  there  was  no  longer  any  hope !" 

The  greater  nimaber  of  the  more  affluent  of  the  houseless 
throng  found  themselves  during  the  course  of  the  forenoon 
imder  the  shelter  of  a  roof,  either  through  the  kindness  of 
friends  and  acquaintances,  or  else  by  means  of  payment.  The 
greater  number  of  the  poorer  sort  had  to  remain  m  the  ojien 
air  for  more  than  one  four-and-twenty  hours,  and  the  old 
woman  of  fourscore,  three  times  fom--and-twenty  hours.  In 
vain  did  the  good  occupants  of  the  parsonage,  Mimmi  Svan- 
berg,  and  several  others,  open  their  hospitable  doors.  The 
number  of  the  sufferers  was  too  great ;  and  besides,  many  of 
the  to^vnspeople  who  were  so  fortunate  as  to  possess  their  sub- 
stance and  their  sjDacious  homes  untouched,  reasoned  Hke  the 
selfish  man  of  property,  when  his  help  was  asked,  "  It  is  no 
concern  of  mine  !"  and  remained  unmoved  spectators  of  their 
brethren's  want  and  labor. 

Director  Falk  and  his  family  removed  to  a  small  suburban 
house  which  they  rented,  and  Hertha's  time  and  thoughts 
were  for  the  moment  wholly  occupied  in  settling  them  down, 
here  as  comfortably  as  was  possible,  imder  existing  circum- 
stances. For  the  first  time  her  powers,  both  of  body  and 
muid,  were  fully  occupied,  and  this  was  very  beneficial  to  her. 

The  town-authorities  were  fully  occupied  also,  partly  with 
providing  for  the  most  necessitous  of  the  sufferers,  partly 
with  convicting  and  sentencing  those  villains  who  availed 
themselves  of  the  pubhc  misfortune  and  consequent  disorder 
to  rob  and  steal,  and  the  judge  of  the  district  swore  a  solemn 
oath,  that  none  who  were  detected  in  such  practices  should 
escape  his  vengeance  and  that  of  the  law. 


THE  FOUR   SISTERS.  146 


CONSEQUENCES. 

Hush  !  She  is  about  to  speak ;  she  has  something  to  say, 
the  dying  young  woman  who  Hes  yonder  on  the  bed.  She 
appears  to  be  contending  with  the  shadows  of  death,  in  order 
yet  to  cast  some  glances,  to  speak  some  words,  in  the  world 
which  she  is  about  to  leave.  Those  eyes,  supernaturally 
bright,  seem  at  times  to  gaze  into  yet  imknown  infinitude,  as 
she  exclaims  again  and  again,  "  How  wonderful !  how  wonder- 
ful !"     But  still  the  shadows  hold  her  back. 

"  Light !  light !  more  Hght !  It  is  indeed  my  weddmg- 
day  !  I  shall  indeed  be  married  to  Arvid  !  Dress  me  in  my 
wedding-clothes !  Dress  me  as  a  bride !  Arvid's  bride ! 
Place  the  myi-tle-crown  on  my  head !  No — no — in  my  hand  ! 
Arvid  is  reaUy  away,  and  I  am  the  bride  of  death  !  My 
father  has  wiUed  it  so  !  He  banished  Arvid :  he  was  very 
severe  ;  and  therefore  I  am  lying  here  !  I  should  like  to  have 
lived  as  a  happy  wife.  Arvid  loved  me  so  much,  and  I  loved 
him !  We  could  have  worked :  we  should  have  had  enough 
with  my  maternal  inheritance.  But  my  father — but  don't  let 
him  know ;  it  would  grieve  him.  I  would  not  willingly  grieve 
any  one.  But  we  will  not  speak  of  the  past.  What  have  I 
said  ?  Ah !  I  am  so  selfish !  I  cannot  forget !  But  the 
moment  is  come  when  I  may  speak,  because  I  am  about  to 
die.  Father  !  father !"  Arid  Avith  a  violent  efiTort  the  dying 
young  woman  raised  her  head,  and  the  supernatxirally  bright 
eyes  gazed  searchingly  among  the  figures  of  those  who  were 
in  the  chamber  with  her.  He  whom  she  called  for  approach- 
ed her  bed — falteringly.  The  eyes  formerly  so  severe  and 
unpitying  are  now  dimmed  with  tears. 

Oh,  gentle  angel  of  death !  thou  makest  the  weak  to  be 
9 


146  TTTB   FOUR   SISTERS. 

Strong,  and  the  severe  thou  makest  weak.  Alma  took  her 
father's  hand  and  riveted  upon  him  a  penetrating  glance. 
"  My  father !  » 

"  Here  I  am.  What  wUt  thou  with  me,  my  chUd  ?  " 
"  Father  !  give  thy  children  their  right, — light,  freedom ; 
thou  gavest  them  life ;  give  them  that  which  alone  makes  life 
valuable.  They  will  then  love — will  love  thee,  as  only  the 
free  can  love.  Thanks  !  I  am  going  hence ;  God  has  liberated 
me.  Hertha  remains  behind !  Father,  give  her  freedom ; 
dost  thou  understand  me,  my  father  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  and  I  promise  to  do  that  which  thou  desirest." 
"  Thank  thee  !  now  I  can  die  calmly.     Be  just  to  Hertha, 
father ;  greet  Arvid,  tell  him — ah,  no,  forgive  me.     I  know 

not  rightly  what  I  am  saying " 

"  Try  to  sleep,  my  child ;  perhaps  thou  wilt  be  better !  " 
"  No,  no  !     I  must  now  look  upon  those  whom  I  love !  " 
And  Alma's  glance  turned  from  her  father  to  her  sisters,  as 
she  whispered,  "  My  sisters,  kiss  me  !  " 
They  kissed  her,  weeping. 

Alma's  eyes  now  sought  Hertha's,  as  she  whispered,  "  Her- 
tha, my  beloved  !  my  only  one !  " 

Hertha  was  there ;  laid  herself  softly  by  her  sister's  side, 
wound  her  arms  around  her,  and  pressed  her  lips  to  hers. 
Thus  rested  the  two  young  sisters,  who  had  so  long  trod  in 
company  the  narrow  thorny  path,  now  clasped  together  in  a 
heartfelt  embrace,  as  though  they  never  more  would  separate. 
But  it  is  the  last  time  that  they  will  ever  rest  thus ;  it  is  the 
last  time  that  their  lips  have  whispered  to  each  other  words 
heard  only  by  themselves  and  God. 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  147 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  BELLS. 

The  bells  are  chiming  for  the  dead.  And  never  do  the 
Swedish  bells  give  forth  more  beautiful,  more  cheerful,  and 
more  animating  sounds  than  on  such  occasions.  There  is  in 
that  funeral-chime  a  secret  anthem  of  joy ;  so  cheerfully,  so 
freely,  and  exultantly  peal  forth  those  melodious  tongues 
through  the  fresh  vernal  atmosphere  of  an  April  evening.  So 
thought  many  a  one  who  listened  to  them  that  day  ringing 
over  the  grave,  where  had  just  been  laid  a  young  woman, 
dead  in  the  prime  of  her  life.  Beside  the  grave  stood  one  to 
whom  their  song  was  more  intelligible  than  to  any  beside. 
She  stood  alone  in  the  evening  by  the  grave,  which  enclosed 
the  dearest  friend  she  had  on  earth,  and  it  was  to  her  that  the 
bells  sang : 

Oh,  for  the  youthful  I 

Hence  taken  early ; 

Weep  not,  nor  mourn  for  her. 

It  is  well  -with  her  I 

From  days  dull  and  cheerless, 

A  pleasureless  future. 

From  life  without  life's  light 

Hence  is  she  taken. 

Never  more,  never  more,  can  she  be  captive  1 

Death,  the  great  reaper, 

TTiou  art  more  merciful 

Than  human  hearts  are, 

Or  human  statutes ; 

They  ordain  thraldom. 

Thou  givest  freedom, 

Releasest  the  bound  one, 

The  patient,  the  loying. 

She  can  no  longer,  no  longer  be  captive. 


148  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

Oh,  glorious  freedom  1 

Love  and  truth  changeless, 

Fountains  eternal, 

In  which  she  confided, 

Towards  which  she  pilgrimed. 

You  are  her  own  now  I 

She  is  free,  she  is  free,  with  the  freed  ones  I 

Therefore  be  joyous. 

Be  joyous  and  sing  ye. 

Sing  ye,  her  sisters, 

Rejoice  for  the  life  which 

Was  death  to  her,  living, 

By  death  is  transfigured 

To  life  everlasting  I 

Never  more,  never  more  can  she  be  captive  1 

She  is  free,  she  is  free  with  the  freed  ones, 

Well  is  it  with  her ! 

Thus  sung  those  melodious  voices  through  the  serene  spring 
atmosphere,  to  one  heart  whose  unspeakable  anguish  was 
wonderfully  appeased  by  that  spirit-like  song,  whilst  torrents 
of  tears  fell  upon  the  newly-raised  turf  of  the  grave.  High 
above  the  grave  carolled  the  larks  in  the  deep-blue,  and  seemed 
to  Tf^p'iat,  as  in  a  tone  of  exultation. 

She  is  free,  she  13  free,  with  the  freed  onesl 


THE  FOUR  SISTERS.  149 


FATHER  AND  DAUGHTER. 

A  FLOWER  UPON  THE  GRAVE. 

Director  Falk  sat  in  his  little  room  at  Kullen,  as  the  little 
suburban  residence  to  wliich  the  family  had  removed  after  the 
fire  was  called,  and  saw  the  sun  set  behind  the  budding  fruit- 
trees  in  the  garden.  He  still  sat  with  his  feet  swathed  in 
woollen  socks  and  suffering  from  gout.  The  expression  of  his 
countenance  was  less  severe  than  formerly,  but,  if  possible, 
more  gloomy.  Both  his  head  and  his  hands  had  visibly  a  tre- 
m.ulous,  palsied  movement.  His  pale  countenance  and  his 
firmly-closed  Hps  showed  that  he  had  taken  some  resolute 
determination,  upon  which  he  was  about  to  act,  although  it 
cost  him  a  great  effort  to  do  so.  He  seemed  to  be  expecting 
some  one  or  something.  He  expected — his  daughter  Hertha, 
to  whom  he  had  sent  a  message  that  he  wished  to  speak  to  her. 

Three  weeks  had  passed  since  the  night  of  the  fire,  and  one 
since  the  corpse  of  Alma  had  been  borne  from  the  house. 
The  horrors  of  that  night,  and  cold  taken  at  the  same  time, 
had  hastened  the  progress  of  her  disease,  and  rapidly  com- 
pleted the  work  which  it  had  begun. 

How  many  a  time  had  Hertha,  who  well  knew  the  original 
cause  of  her  sister's  illness,  thought  in  the  bitterness  of  her 
heart  how  she  would  by  her  death-bed  one  day  reproach  her 
father  aloud,  because  he  was  her  executioner ;  had  thought 
over  before-hand  the  terrible  words  with  which  she  would 
punish  the  hard,  selfish  man.  The  hour  came,  but  she  then 
saw  her  fether  bowed  and  broken,  trembling  near  his  victim, 
and  she  could  no  longer  find  words  wherewith  to  reproach  or 
punish  him.    She  had  only  tears  for  them  both. 


150  THE   FOUR  SISTERS. 

Since  that  event,  however,  father  and  daughter  seemed  to 
avoid  each  other.  Aunt  Nella,  or  old  Anna,  carried  question 
and  answer  from  one  to  the  other,  when  this  was  needed. 
Rudolph's  name  was  never  me'.-^tioned  by  the  Du-ector,  neither 
did  he  seem  to  like  to  hear  ^l-.-.  vw  .J^nfnd  by  any  one  else, 
and  the  imfortunate  youth  wa>  iftt?^^fflpr^*7  the  family  almost 
as  one  dead.  Every  one  belit,'3r?Lii  guilty  of  originating 
the  fire. 

Hertha  now,  more  than  ever,  called  upon  to  act  both  for 
herself  and  others,  and  more  than  ever,  therefore,  in  want  of 
that  liberty  which  had  been  promised  her,  to  direct  her  own 
actions  and  manage  her  own  lawful  property,  both  wished  and 
feared,  at  the  same  time,  to  have  some  conversation  with  her 
father.  Thus  things  stood  on  that  evening,  when  a  message 
came  which  summoned  her  to  him. 

If  any  one  has  done  thee  a  great  injury  and  by  that  means 
called  forth  the  demons  of  hatred  and  bitterness  into  thy  heart 
— and  worse  injury  than  that  can  no  one  do  to  a  soul — and 
God  give  thee  grace  to  do  thy  injurer  a  great  service,  there 
arises  something  great  within  thy  whole  being,  which  makes 
it  much  easier  for  thee  to  forgive,  even  if  thou  art  not  besought 
to  do  so.  Thou  hast  acted  like  the  Highest  on  the  earth,  and 
His  peace — which  surpasses  all  peace  and  all  strife — covers 
with  its  wings  the  bitter  waters  of  thy  mind. 

When  Hei*tha  came  before  her  father,  her  glance  was  less 
cold,  and  her  demeanor  less  rigid  than  usual.  She  had  car- 
ried him  like  a  child  in  her  arms  and  on  her  breast,  through 
fire  and  flames.  The  memory  of  that  had  wonderfully  molli- 
fied her  heart.  Yet  that  heart  throbbed  violently  as  she 
entered  her  father's  room  and  advanced  softly  to  the  chair  in 
which  he  sat.  He  looked  up  hastily,  and  motioned  with  his 
hand  to  a  chair  which  stood  near  his,  as  he  said  : 

"  Sit  down  ;  I  wish  to  speak  to  you." 

Hertha  saw  that  the  hand  trembled ;  it  afiected  her. 

After  a  moment's  silence  the  old  man  began,  with  a  voice 
which  he  endeavored  to  make  firm. 

"  You  have  done  me  a  great  service ;  you  have  saved  my 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  151 

life.  I  wish  to  show  you  my  gratitude.  Tell  me  what  you 
wish  me  to  do  for  you  ?  " 

"  Give  me  my  liberty,  father,"  said  Hertha,  "s^nth  a  mild  but 
firm  voice, — "  and  the  property  that  I  inherit  from  my  mother. 
I  am  twenty-seven  years  old,  and  I  wish  to  be  declared  as 
having  attained  my  majority." 

"  It  shall  be  done,"  repUed  her  father,  "  if  I  can  only  get 
time  to  take  the  necessary  steps.  I  am  prepared  to  render  an 
account  of  the  property  inherited  from  your  mother ;  I  have 
been  a  just  steward,  according  to  the  best  of  my  ability ;  the 
last  misfoitune  does  not  touch  it — that — that  you  can  well 
understand." 

Hertha  bowed  her  head  in  silent  acquiescence ;  her  father 
continued : 

"  The  interest  of  your  mother's  property,  together  with  your 
proportion  of  your  late  sister's  share,  amounts  to  a  sum 
sufficient  to  enable  you  to  Uve  independently  wherever  you 
would  like.  You  have  a  right  to  do  so.  You  are  of  the  class 
of  strong  women  who  are  able  to  be  theu-  own  support,  and  even 
to  support  others.  I  have  hitherto  not  beheved  in  the  exist- 
ence of  such;  I  have,  perhaps,  been  unjust  in  this  respect,  at 
all  events  as  regards  you,  as  I  saw  at  the  time  of  the  fire,  and 
even  since  then.  Be  therefore  free,  my  daughter ;  see  and  do 
that  which  pleases  you,  and,  in  the  meantime,  take  this  sum  of 
money," — and  with  a  trembling  hand  he  laid  in  that  of  his 
daughter,  a  roU  of  bills  to  the  value  of  about  a  thousand  rix- 
dollars  banco — "they  are  some  of  my  savings,  you  can  do 
with  them  what  you  hke ;  use  them  for  a  journey  or  whatever 
else  you  have  a  wish  for." 

Money,  as  reward  for  an  act  of  love,  which  saved  him  from 
a  horrible  death !  and  yet  Hertha  received  it  with  gratitude, 
because  money  is  a  means  of  much  good,  and  of  happiness  to 
many;  besides  she  well  imderstood  her  father's  really  good 
intentions.  Tears  filled  her  eyes  as  she  thanked  him.  He 
assimied  a  harsher  tone : 

"  I  know  that  you  do  not  love  me,  and  perhaps  it  is  not 
altogether  your  own  fault,  because  you  have  not  understood 


153  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

my  affection  for  you  ;  nevertheless,  I  know  that  I  have  wished 
for  and  desired,  the  future  advantage  of  my  children."  Here 
he  suddenly  broke  off  and  fixed  his  eyes  upon  the  ground.  It 
was  as  if  a  pale  shadow  rising  therefi'om  had  whispered, 
"  Why  do  I  lie  here  ?  I  might  have  Hved  happily  as  a 
wife." 

Hertha  was  sUent ;  the  old  man  Anped  away  the  sweat- 
drops  from  his  brow.  His  whole  frame  trembled.  After  a 
moment  he  resumed — 

"  If  I  have  made  a  mistake,  then  I  am,  perhaps,  severely 
enough  punished.  In  the  meantime,  may  you  be  free  and 
happy,  far  from  a  father  and  a  home  which  you  do  not  love. 
The  interest  of  your  mother's  property  can  be  paid  to  you  at 
any  place  wherever  you  may  be.  And  I  desire  nothing  more 
from  you  than  that  you  should  tell  me  where  you  would  like 
to  be." 

"Here !"  said  Hertha,  as  she  rose  up  and  laid  her  hand  on 
the  arm  of  her  father's  chair,  "  here,  with  you,  my  father,  if 
you  will  allow  it.  Oh !  you  have  little  understood  me  and  the 
liberty  which  I  have  coveted.  And  you  shall  understand  me 
better,  if  you  will  promise  me,  what  I  now  ask  of  you,  and 
which  I  know  that  I  deserve." 

"  And  what  is  that  ?"  asked  the  Director,  as  he  looked  up 
to  his  daughter  with  an  excited  glance. 

"Your  confidence,  father!"  said  Hertha,  mildly  and 
gravely.  "  BeUeve  that  I  desire  what  is  right  and  good,  and 
let  me  remain  with  you  to  prove  this  to  you.  Have  con- 
fidence in  me,  and — ^be  kind  to  me  and  my  sisters,  so  that  we 
may  love  you,  and  endeavor  to  make  you  happy.  I  am  no 
longer  a  child,  my  father !  I  wiU  be  a  mother  to  my  younger 
sisters,  and  manage  your  house  according  to  my  best  abiHty. 
I  know  that  this  is  my  duty ;  it  will  also  be  my  pleasure,  if, 
father,  you  will  only  give  me  my  freedom  and  your  confidence, 
and  be  kind  to  me  for — Alma's  sake .''" 

Now  it  was  spoken  out:  that  reproachful,  bitter  word, 
which  had  so  long  brooded  in  Hertha's  breast,  but  a  loving 
,  \gel  had  anointed  the  arrow's  point  with  a  healing  balsam. 


\ 


THE    Torn    R187"KRS.  153 

It  pierced  the  heart  deeply,  penetratingly,  but  at  the  same 
time  softenmgly,  as  with  a  chastising  look  of  love. 

The  old  man  said  nothmg ;  he  bowed  his  head,  and  large 
heavy  tears  rolled  down  the  deeply-furrowed  cheeks. 

Then  another  head  bent  down  softly  to  his,  and  a  young 
fi'esh  cheek,  wet  with  tears,  was  laid  close  to  his.  A  beautiful 
sorrowmg  memory  united  father  and  daughter  in  one  common 
bitter  [)ain.  Yes  —  blessed  are  they  who  can  thus  weep 
together .' 

Gentle  feehngs  produce  profoundly  beneficial  effects  upon 
stem  natures.  It  is  the  spring-rain  which  melts  the  ice- 
covering  of  the  earth,  and  causes  it  to  open  to  the  beams 
of  heaven. 

Old  Mr.  Falk  felt  it  to  be  so,  and  he  raised  his  head,  as  he 
said  in  the  gentlest  voice  which  his  daughter  had  ever  heard 
from  her  father : 

"  Let  it  be  as  you  have  said.  We  will  endeavor  to  begin 
anew  Avith  each  other.  I  am  only  afraid  that — I  may  be  quite 
too  heavy  a  burden  to  you,  for  I  feel  that  some  great  change 
is  about  to  take  place  in  my  state  of  health." 

He  was  not  aware  that  it  was  precisely  a  presentiment  of 
this  change ;  the  sight  of  that  palsied  hand  and  that  tremulous 
head,  which  had  moved  the  daughter's  soul  to  the  resolve, 
that  her  youthful  strength  and  health  should  be  his  support. 


154  THE  FOUR   SISTERS. 


THE  SON  OF  THE  TWILIGHT. 

It  was  almost  dusk  when  Htrtha  left  her  father  and  went 
down  to  her  own  room.  As  she  approached  the  door,  how- 
ever, she  involuntarily  started  back,  perceiving  a  dark,  almost 
shapeless  form,  lying  upon  the  threshold,  and  glaring  upon 
her  with  a  pair  of  terrible  eyes  from  beneath  a  thick  mass  of 
unkempt  and  disordered  black  hair.  Hertha  shuddered 
involuntarily  as  she  said,  "  Rudolph !" 

He  continued  to  stare  into  her  face,  which  was  lighted  up 
by  the  crimson  of  the  sunset,  as  well  as  by  the  conversation 
which  she  had  just  had  ^vith  her  father. 

"  Rudolph  !"  repeated  she,  in  a  voice  half  of  anger  and  half 
of  terror.    "  Rudolph !  is  it  you  ?" 

"  Yes,"  replied  he ;  "  and  you  ?  are  you  the  angel  of 
judgment  ?" 

"  I  am  Hertha,  your  cousin.  Stand  up  :  don't  lie  grovelling 
in  that  way.  Stand  up  :  be  a  man  !  I  have  been  expecting  to 
hear  something  from  you  for  a  long  time." 

"  Don't  talk  sternly  to  me.  It  will  do  no  good.  I  am  too 
much  used  to  that.  And  now  I  don't  care  for  the  whole 
world.     Trample  on  me,  if  you  like.     Here  will  I  die." 

"  Get  up,  Rudolph,  and  come  with  me  into  my  room.  I 
will  talk  with  you  there." 

The  calm  determination  in  Hertha's  voice,  and  the  words, 
"  in  my  room  I  will  talk  with  you,"  produced  a  great  eifect 
upon  the  unfortunate  young  man.  He  rose  up.  She  opened 
the  door  of  the  room,  and  he  followed  her  in.  She  surveyed 
him  attentively,  and  when  she  became  aware  of  his  wholly 
desolate,  and,  as  it  were,  shipwrecked  appearance,  she  said 
with  heartfelt  compassion : 


THE    FOIR    SISTKRS.  155 

"  Poor  Rudolph !     Wliere  have  you  been  ?" 

"  I  don't  exactly  know.     In  the  great  woods  about  here." 

"  You  have  need  of  something  to  eat  and  drink.  Wait  a 
moment." 

Hertha  went  out  and  soon  returned  with  bread,  some  cold 
meat,  and  a  bowl  of  milk. 

"  The  fire  is  out  in  the  kitchen,"  she  said,  "  and  I  cannot 
now  get  up  anything  warm  ;  but  take  of  this — eat  and  drink." 

"  Oh,  Hertha !  Then  you  can  still  take  some  interest  in 
me." 

"  Yes — yes  :  I  shall  always  be  your  friend,  Rudolph.  But 
now,  eat  and  drink.     After  that  we  will  talk." 

Rudolph  ate  and  drank  hke  one  who  had  neither  eaten 
nor  drunk  for  several  days.  After  awhile  he  said,  "Thank 
you,  I  have  had  enough." 

"  Let  us  now  have  some  talk,  Rudolph,"  said  Hertha,  with 
calm  resolution.  "  Tell  me  what  you  have  thought — what 
you  think  of  doing  for  the  future.  What  do  you  wish  for — 
what  would  you  like  ?" 

"  To  see  you !" 

"  And  after  that  ?» 

"  Die— What  have  I  to  live  for  ?" 

"  You  must  not  die  yet,  Rudolph,"  said  Hertha,  solemnly. 
"You  must  Hve  in  order  to  reconcile  to  you  those  friends 
whom  you  have  ahenated ;  to  make  amends  for  injuries  you 
have  done,  and  to  become  a  better  man." 

"  How  can  I  Uve  ?     Where  must  I  go  to  ?" 

"The  world  is  large.  You  must  go  out  into  the  world, 
into  a  foreign  land ;  a  long  way  from  this  place.  People 
already  suspect  you  here.  People  are  making  inquiries  after 
you.  If  once  you  are  seized,  you  will  either  be  executed  or 
imprisoned  as  a  malefactor.  Oh,  Rudolph,  you  have  done 
mischief  enough  already — do  not  make  us  still  more  unfor- 
tvmate  !" 

"  Tell  me,  tell  me  then,  what  shall  I  do  ?"  said  Rudolph, 
bewildered  and  unable  to  take  counsel  with  himself.  "  You — 
you  I  wlU  obey.     Oh,  Hertha,  you  have  a  wonderfiil  power 


156  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

over  me.  But,  when  I  think  of  that  horrible  night ;  the 
flames ;  the  houseless  throng,  and  you  looking  at  me  like  the 
angel  of  judgment  and  pmiishment " 

"  I  shall  not  henceforth  look  at  you  in  that  way,  Rudolph. 
I  am  your  friend,  your  sister.  Now  listen  to  me,  Rudolph. 
You  must  immediately  go  hence.  Here  is  some  money ; 
three  hundred  rix-dollars ;  they  are  my  own,  and  now  they 
are  yours.  I  know  that  you  have  a  thorough  knowledge  of 
money.  With  this  you  must  Immediately  go  to  Gotheborg, 
and  from  thence  to  Copenhagen.  You  must  there  go  to  our 
relation  Banker  Falk.  I  have  written  to  him,  and  here  you 
have  a  letter  to  him.  He  will  receive  you ;  of  that  I  am 
certain,  and  take  charge  of  you  for  a  time.  As  soon  as  you 
reach  Copenhagen  write  to  me  and  tell  me  everything  that 
concerns  you.  And  I  will  then  write  to  you  and  send  you 
more  money  if  you  require  it.  " 

"  I  shall  not  require  it !"  said  Rudolph,  "  because  I  am 
grown  uj),  and  I  can  wi'ite  and  keep  books  for  wages.  I  will 
do  everything  that  you  bid  me,  Hertha,  if  you  wiU  only  pro- 
mise to  think  of  me  and  write  to  me  often.  I  know  that  I  did 
what  is  very  wrong  that  night; — a  wonderful  Ught  entered 
my  mind  then — but,  Hertha,  do  not  abandon  me ! — You  are 
the  only,  only  person  in  the  whole  world  who  has  any  regard 
for  me  ;  the  only  one  who  asks  after  me ;  who  wishes  me  well, 
the  only  one " 

"  No,  not  the  only  one,  Rudolph,"  interrupted  Hertha,  in 
whose  sold  at  this  moment  the  fountams  of  divine  salvation 
opened  their  depths, — "  Jesus  came  to  this  world  to  save 
sinners  ;  go  to  Him,  Rudolph,  and  He  will  be  with  you  ;  He 
will  be  your  friend." 

"  How  can  I  go  to  Him  ? — You  have  never  before  talked  to 
me  about  Him  ;  do  you  believe  in  Him,  Hertha  ?' 

"  I  did  not  formerly  understand  Him,  as  I  do  now,  Rudolph. 
My  eyes  have  been  closed.  Alma  knew  Him  better  than  I 
did.  Look,  here  is  a  little  book  about  Him ;  in  which  she 
often  read,  and  in  which  she  has  marked  many  passages. 
Take  it,  read  it,  and  do  that  which  the  Saviour  commands, 


THE  FOUR  SISTERS,  157 

and  He  will  lead  you  to  God.  The  sin  which  you  have  hitherto 
committed,  God  will  forgive,  because  you  knew  not  what  you 
did ;  your  reason  was  clouded,  poor  Rudolph,  and  you  had 
no  guiding  fi-iend.  But  now  you  know  that  what  you  did 
was  sin ;  and  God  has  opened  to  you  a  way  by  which  you 
can  make  atonement.  I  know  that  your  heart  is  not  wicked. 
If  you  foUow  Jesus  it  will  become  good,  and  you  will  never  do 
otherwise  than  what  is  right.  Wherever  you  happen  to  be, 
Kudolph,  remember  this  :  help  the  oppressed  and  the  suffering, 
whether  they  be  human  beings  or  animals.  But  never  seek 
vengeance  for  yourself,  Rudolph;  leave  vengeance  to  God 
who  sees  all  things.  Go,  and  be  merciful  to  your  fellow-crea- 
tures, as  Jesus  has  set  you  the  example.  Oh,  Rudolph  !  there 
is  a  great  deal  which  is  dark  and  sorrowful  and  bitter  upon 
earth,  but  He  is  light  and  He  is  goodness,  and  with  him  as 
your  guide  you  will  attain  to  light  and  the  highest  life.  You 
have  much  to  Hve  for,  much  which  can  make  life  noble  and 
good  and  divine.  You  have  hitherto  lived  as  a  poor  child 
of  darkness,  Rudolph  ;  now  you  must  Uve  to  become  a  child 
ofhght  and  of  God!" 

Hertha's  tears  gushed  forth  as  she  thus  talked  with  a 
power  and  an  enthusiasm  which  even  affected  herself. 
Rudolph  listened  in  silence  with  eyes  riveted  uj)on  her,  whilst 
he  many  times  breathed  deeply,  as  if  he  felt  a  heavy 
burden  lifted  from  his  breast  and  inspu-ed  a  new  breath  of 
life.     When  she  ceased  speaking,  he  Ufted  up  his  head  and  said  : 

"  God  has  spoken  to  me  through  you,  and  I  have  rightly 
comprehended  and  imderstood  every  word  you  have  said; 
and  I  will  do  as  you  have  told  me.  Yes,  I  will  be  a  child  of 
God ;  I  will  follow  Jesus ;  and  you  follow  him  also,  Hertha, 
and  thus  we  shall  both  go  the  same  way,  and  in  the  end  we 
shall  be  united  ?" 

"Yes,  Rudolph,  yes,  in  heaven,  as  angels  of  God,  if  we  are 
worthy  of  becoming  such.  But  now,  dear  Rudolj^h,  you 
must  go ;  before  morning  you  must  be  on  your  way  to  the 
coast.  The  steamboat  to  Gotheborg  sails  early  to-morrow 
from  K  *  *  *.    You  must  make  haste  to  be  in  time  for  it.    Your 


158  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

whole  futiire  wellbeing  may  depend  upon  it.  Remember 
what  we  have  talked  about !" 

"  Yes,  yes ;  I  will  go.     Farewell !" 

He  offered  her  his  hand ;  she  took  it  and  went  out  with 
him  into  the  court.  It  was  a  cold,  bright  night,  at  the  close 
of  April ;  hoar-frost  covered  the  meadow.  The  stars  shone 
l)rightly  above  their  heads  in  the  blue  expanse  of  heaven. 
When  they  had  reached  the  little  lane  which  led  from  the 
house  to  the  high  road,  Rudolph  said : 

"  Hertha,  let  me  have  a  parting  kiss." 

She  could  not  refuse  him  at  that  moment ;  she  raised  her 
face  to  his ;  but  he  clasped  her  in  burning  love  and  pain,  and 
covered  her  face  with  hot  kisses. 

With  an  involuntary  feeling  of  horror  and  disgust  Hertha 
tore  herself  from  his  arms,  as  she  exclaimed,  "  Away,  away !" 

Rudolph  turned  and  went  on  his  way  sobbing  aloud.  But 
just  as  he  reached  the  end  of  the  lane,  he  felt  a  hand  touch 
his  arm,  and  Hertha  again  stood  before  him  Avith  the  light  of 
hope  and  compassion  again  beammg  in  her  countenance  ;  she 
pointed  to  heaven  and  said  : 

"  There,  Rudolph,  there  !'' 

With  tliese  words,  she  hastened  back ;  gathered  up  the 
hoar-frost  from  the  grass,  and  washed  her  face  with  it,  which 
seemed  to  her  polluted  by  Rudolph's  kisses.  So  doing,  she 
listened  to  the  sound  of  his  footsteps,  which  became  more  and 
more  distant  on  the  desolate  high  road  in  the  silent  night. 
When  she  could  no  longer  perceive  them,  she  breathed  more 
freely.  And  as  she  stood  there,  alone  beneath  the  brilliant, 
starry  heavens,  in  the  silence  of  night,  a  joyfiil  peace  stole  over 
lier  mind ;  an  indescribably  wonderful  and  pleasant  feeling  of 
approaching  morning  and  spring  came  consolingly  with  the 
breeze  of  night,  which  refreshingly  caressed  her  forehead,  and 
touched  her  eyebrows  as  with  a  spirit's  kisses.  The  strengthen- 
ing and  edifying  words  which  she  had  spoken,  the  consolation 
which  she  had  given  to  another,  came  now  like  good  angels 
l>ack  10  her  own  bosom,  with  the  presentiment,  that  an  ever- 
lasling  love  ruled  the  world,  and  tliat  she  might  become  its 


THE   FOim   SISTERS  159 

messenger.  The  feeling  of  a  living,  inward  commnnion  with 
a  higher,  holy,  life-giving  power,  arose  in  her  soul  as  a  morn- 
ing Avatch,  and  opened  it  to  one  of  those  unspeakable,  almost 
wordless,  but  not  the  less  powerful,  prayers  by  which  earth'a 
poor  children,  yet  enveloped  in  night,  endeavor  to  reach  the 
Lord  of  life  and  light,  and  which  may  be  thus  interpreted  : 

"  O  Thou,  of  whom  I  have  a  presentiment,  Thou  whom  I 
yet  do  not  know,  whom  I  yearn  to  know  and  to  love — God ! 
enlighten  me  with  thy  countenance,  tm-n  thy  countenance 
towards  me,  and  give  me  thy  light  and  thy  blessing !" 

The  thought  of  Alma;  the  longing  to  experience  something 
about  her,  something  from  her,  mingled  itself  with  inexpressi- 
ble melancholy  in  her  sigh  after  divine  light,  which  she 
breathed  forth  into  the  silence  of  night.  And  who  is  there, 
who,  having  lost  by  death  a  very  dear  fi-iend,  does,  not  in 
every  hour  of  deepest  hfe  and  longing,  speak,  with  inexpressi- 
ble sighs  in  the  depths  of  his  soul,  the  beloved  name ;  pray 
for  a  sign,  a  token,  ah  !  merely  an  inward  intimation  that  the 
departed  is  present,  that  he  hears,  that  he  loves  us,  that  he 
enjoys  the  light,  the  blessedness  of  which  we  stand  in  need, 
and  that  he  obtains  good  for  us,  and  for  them  who  sit  in 
darkness,  from  the  Father,  whose  ear  he  is  nearer  to  than  we ! 

So  it  was  with  Hertha,  as  she  stretched  forth  her  arms  into 
empty  space,  and  called  in  a  low  voice,  "  Alma  !  Alma  !" 

But  no  sound,  no  sign,  no  token  replied  to  her  from  the 
desolate  infinitude.  She  let  her  hands  fall ;  dried  her  tears, 
and  again  entered  her  chamber  in  order  to  lay  to  rest  in  the 
arms  of  sleep  all  uneasy  questionings,  all  the  pangs  of  thought 
and  of  feeling.  Tears  soothe.  It  is  a  great  relief  to  be  able 
to  weep.  Hertha's  tears  calmed  the  agitated  biUows  of  her 
soul.  She  slept  and  had  a  dream,  which  afforded  her  great 
consolation. 

She  dreamed  that  it  was  night,  and  that  she  went  into  her 
silent  chamber  to  go  to  rest.  Alma  was  dead,  and  she  was 
alone  with  heavy  thoughts.  She  then  saw  the  glimpse  of  a 
white  figure  by  the  window,  which  seemed  as  if  wishful  to 
withdraw  itself  behind  the  white  window-curtain.     A  thought 


160  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

passed  like  lightning  through  Hertha's  soul,  "  It  is  a  sign  from 
Alma  !  "  And  she  sprang  up  hastily,  as  if  to  retain  the  fleet- 
ing token ;  she  reached  behind  the  curtaui,  she  wished  to 
take  hold  of  the  white  floating  spirit-veil,  but  when  she  with- 
drew her  hand,  behold  !  she  held  in  it  a  bouquet  of  the  most 
beautiful  flowers,  such  as  she  had  never  before  seen ;  little 
bells,  hke  lilies  of  the  vaUey,  Alma's  favorite  flowers,  of  the 
loveliest  pale  pink  color,  which  hung  in  little  fragrant  clusters 
on  their  graceful  stems.  Delighted  and  happy,  she  pressed 
the  beautiful  bouquet  to  her  Ups,  to  her  heart,  and  returned 
with  them  to  her  bed.  On  this  there  opened  above  her  a 
large  window,  and  she  saw  the  brightest  deep-blue  heaven 
above  her,  and  there,  in  the  highest  profoimd,  shone — was  it 
a  fixed  star,  or  a  beaming  eye  ?  she  knew  not  which,  but  only 
that  from  the  brilliant  heavens  it  beamed  down  upon  her,  and 
the  flowers  which  she  held  in  her  hand,  floods  of  a  light,  as 
efiulgent,  as  gentle,  and  as  pleasant  as  we  might  imagine 
would  be  the  glance  of  the  blessed. 

In  many  a  dark  hour  which  succeeded,  Hertha's  soul  was 
comforted  by  the  remembrance  of  that  dream. 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  Ifil 


NEW  SCHEMES  AND  UNDERTAKINGS. 

SOMETHING   NEW  UNDEK  THE   SUN. 

Mrs.  Tupplander  is  in  all  her  splendor,  the  Honorable 
Miss  Krusbjorn  is  all  activity,  and  every  maid-servant  in 
the  house  as  busy  as  a  bee.  There  is  going  to  be  a  great 
breakfast  of  chocolate  and  bouillon,  with  the  necessary  cakes 
and  pastry  for  a  great  number  of  guests,  how  many  is  not 
exactly  known ;  this  only  is  sure,  that  there  will  be  a  great 
many.  That  is  to  say,  the  Ladies'-Society  which  had  been 
proposed,  but  not  organized,  before  the  fancy-ball  and  the 
great  fire,  and  which,  since  the  latter  occurrence,  had  hastily 
come  into  operation,  both  fifom  external  and  internal  necessity. 
The  same  necessity  had,  with  equal  haste,  led  to  the  forma- 
tion of  a  society  of  gentlemen  under  the  name  of  the  Poor's- 
Rehef  Committee,  to  assist  and  provide  for  the  poor  rendered 
destitute  by  the  fire ;  and  both  these  societies  were  this  day 
to  meet  at  Mrs.  Tupplander's  to  arrange  their  plans  of  pro- 
cedure, and  consult  together  as  to  some  general  means  of 
relieving  the  most  extreme  .cases  of  distress  caused  by  the 
late  calamity.  Pastor  Dahl  was  to  take  the  chair  on  this 
occasion,  and  Mimmi  Svanberg  to  act  as  Secretary.  Proto- 
col-Secretary N.  B.  was  also  to  be  there,  on  pretence  of 
collecting  material  for  the  work  which  he  intends  to  write  on 
Ladies'-Societies. 

Both  ladies  and  gentlemen  arrived — a  great  number  of 
them.  People  took  off  their  things  ;  they  shook  hands  ;  they 
asked  one  another  how  they  did.  They  collected  in  little 
groups,  the  ladies  to  themselves,  the  gentlemen  to  themselves, 
as  is  so  generally  the  custom  here  in  the  north.  Each  talked 
10 


162  THE   FOUR  SISTERS. 

with  his  neighbor  ia  a  low  voice.  Chocolate  and  biscuits  were 
handed  round  ;  they  sipped  and  they  dipped ;  they  set  down 
their  cups ;  they  seated  themselves  on  chairs  and  sofas,  and 
then  there  was  a  silence,  because  our  httle  pastor  stood  up 
upon  a  little  elevation  at  the  end  of  the  large  drawing-room, 
and  was  about  to  make  a  speech,  and,  as  usual,  people  were 
very  glad  to  hear  what  he  had  to  say. 

But  now  it  happened  to  him,  as  it  had  not  unfrequently 
happened  before,  that  his  heart  became  warm,  that  his  thoughts 
took  an  imexpected  turn ;  in  short,  that  he  was  inspired  to 
say  something  quite  different  to  that  which  he  had  prepared 
at  his  writing-table.  Everybody  could  see  that  he  was 
affected ;  that  his  mind  was  full  of  matter,  that  his  eyes 
beamed  as  though  they  would  hght  up  the  whole  company. 
AU  at  once  he  exclaimed  : 

"Ladies  and  gentlemen!  It  will  not  be  of  any  use  our 
coming  together  Uke  strangers  to  each  other — the  men  here, 
the  women  there  !  What !  Are  we  not  brothers  and  sisters, 
children  of  the  same  Father,  and  united  here  for  the  same 
purpose  in  his  service  ?  No  :  we  must  not  break  ourselves  up 
into  a  Ladies'-Society  and  a  Gentleman's-Society,  we  must 
have  one  Brethren-society,  or  a  Brethren-Covenant  of  men 
and  women  both,  divided  into  famihes  of  brothers  and  sisters, 
who  wiU  help  one  another  in  love  to  labor  for  the  good  of  the 
general  household. 

"  When  God  created  the  human  race,  He  created  them 
man  and  woman,  and  gave  them  to  each  other  as  helpers  in 
life,  just  as  people  set  one  half  to  another,  to  make  a  perfect 
whole.  And,  look  !  He  has  done  it  for  one  and  for  all  human 
beings,  for  the  small  and  for  the  large  world  alike.  Man  and 
woman  must  extend  to  each  other  their  hands  as  brethren  and 
as  married  couples,  not  merely  in  the  private  home,  but  also 
in  the  great  home,  which  we  caU  social  life.  Thus  was  it  in 
the  early  Christian  community,  when  men  and  women  acted 
together  in  concert,  distributing  bread  and  prayers.  Thus 
ought  it  to  be  again,  and  in  more  affluent  measure,  when  that 
parent  community,  which  the  Holy  Ghost  touched  with  his 


THE    POUR   SISTERS.  163 

divine  influence,  has  penetrated  all  peoples  and  all  realms,  and 
the  Christian  family  renews  its  spiritual  relationship  m  every 
sphere  of  Tinman  life,  and  all  by  that  means  participate  in  work 
— that  is  bread — and  prayers.  Then  will  the  garden  of  Eden 
again  open  its  gates  to  the  children  of  Adam  and  Eve  !  Let 
us  to-day,  on  our  spot  of  earth,  and  in  our  httle  portion  of  the 
large  field  of  labor,  begin  the  work :  let  us  unite  ourselves  in 
a  more  inner  meaning  of  the  word  than  hitherto  :  let  us 
extend  to  each  other  our  hands  for  a  true  fi-aternal  bond ; 
thus  shall  we  accomplish  the  Creator's  design,  who  intended 
not  that  man  alone,  or  that  woman  alone,  but  that  man  and 
woman  united,  the  perfected  human-being,  should  have 
dominion  over  the  earth  ! " 

"  That  is  really  and  truly  something  new  under  the  sun !" 
said  Mimmi  Svanberg,  smiling,  to  the  pastor,  as  she  hastily 
noted  down  the  principal  points  of  his  speech.  "  May  it  only 
be  carried  out ! " 

Protocol-Secretary  N".  B.  raised  his  voice  to  protest  against 
the  proposition,  which,  he  said,  was  "  imnecessary,  and  would 
lead  to  nothing  but  confusion."  He  ended  by  demanding  a 
vote  on  the  subject.  It  struck  him  with  a  sort  of  panic- 
terror  that  he  himself,  as  now  a  member  of  the  Poor's-ReUef 
Committee,  should,  in  case  the  pastor's  proposition  was 
carried,  become  in  fact  a  bond  fide  member  of  the  Ladies'- 
Society ;  and  how  then  would  it  go  with  him  and  the  book 
he  was  about  to  write?  He  now  therefore  desired,  by  a 
strong  negative,  to  make  a  protest  against  the  resolution,  and 
hoped  to  find  a  majority  on  his  side. 

But  he  was  deceived.  During  the  late  terrible  occurrences 
in  the  town,  £tnd  the  consequent  suffering,  men  and  women  had 
labored  together  as  brothers  and  sisters  in  the  common  work 
of  rescue  and  relief,  so  that  the  present  assembly,  which 
consisted  for  the  most  part  of  these  very  people,  found  them- 
selves extremely  well  disposed  to  adopt  the  resolution ;  and 
when  one  of  the  most  generally  esteemed  men  of  the  town,  the 
noble  old  lawyer  Carlson,  rose  to  thank  the  speaker,  and  to 
declare  that  he  agreed  in  all  the  views  of  the  reverend  speaker, 


164  THE   FOUR  SISTERS. 

and  seconded  the  resolution,  the  company  rose  with  almost 
general  acclamation.  Three  or  four  Noes  were  overpowered 
by  the  general  Yes !  and  other  indubitable  expressions  of 
cordial  approval.     Mr.  Protocol-Secretary  N.  B.  left  the  room. 

The  company  then  j)roceeded  immediately,  under  the  direc- 
tion of  their  spiritual  teacher,  to  organize  the  new  society. 
A  main  division  or  family,  "was  formed,  which  undertook  the 
management  of  the  monetary  affairs,  as  well  as  various  other 
families,  each  taking  their  respective  portion  of  labor ;  each 
being  empowered  to  lay  do^wn  its  own  laws  or  mode  of 
procedure,  although  in  certain  questions  subservient  to  the 
direction  of  the  Head  Family.  Each  division  or  family  had  a 
father  and  a  mother,  who  selected  the  other  members  of  the 
family  group.  By  this  means  Dr.  Hedermann  became 
"  father"  of  the  family  whose  duty  it  w^as  to  attend  to  the 
health  of  the  sufferers  from  the  fire.  And  he  summoned  as 
his  children  and  assistants,  half  in  joke  and  half  in  earnest, 
Ingeborg  Uggla  and  Hertha  Falk,  avIio  more  than  willingly 
placed  themselves  under  his  guidance. 

The  childless,  and  yet  so  truly  the  motherly,  Mrs.  Dahl  was 
elected  unanimously  as  "  mother"  of  the  family  which  had 
charge  of  the  destitute  children.  She  received  the  appoint- 
ment with  tears  of  joy,  because  she  saw,  in  her  mind's  eye,  the 
Infant  Asylum,  the  wish  of  her  heart,  the  infant-school,  flour- 
ishing to  her  heart's  desire  under  the  shelter  of  her  wing. 

Mrs.  Tupplander  looked  a  httle  confounded  and  affronted 
when  she  heard  herself  proposed  as  the  mother  of  the  "  Soup- 
Kitchen  Family,"  and  she  seemed  to  think  that  such  an  under- 
taking was  below  her  dignity ;  but  she  suddenly  brighten- 
ed up  when  the  amiable  Countess  P.  hastened  forward  to  offer 
her  assistance  in  the  Commissariat  Department,  and  to  supply 
the  great  copper  with  herbs,  barley,  and  vegetables  fi-om  her 
estate  in  the  country.  Her  husband.  Count  P.,  on  this  declar- 
ed, laughing,  that  he  should  not  separate  from  his  wife,  but 
should,  as  her  brother  in  the  soup-kitchen-family,  send  in  two 
fathoms  of  fire  wood,  and  have  a  bullock  killed  for  the  use  of 
the  family  copper. 


iHE  roua  SISTERS.  165 

All  present  came  by  degrees  into  the  best  possible  humor. 
The  spirit  of  human-love,  which  had  inspired  the  proposition 
in  the  first  place,  communicated  itself  to  and  animated  all 
hearts.  Pride  and  self-love  vanished  before  a  magical,  gentle 
influence :  fear  and  mistrust  of  their  own  or  other  people's 
powers  disappeared  also  before  a  cheerful  and  strength-giving 
courage ;  many  were  affected,  they  knew  not  rightly  where- 
fore ;  they  joked,  but  with  tears  in  then-  eyes  ;  remarks  were 
made  which  sounded  satu-ical,  but  the  point  of  the  satire  wa? 
sharpened  by  love :  they  called  one  another  "  father,"  "  mo- 
ther," "  sister,"  "  brother ;"  they  shook  hands  Hke  members  of 
the  same  family.  Mimmi  Svanberg  was  a  member  of  every 
family,  and  was  at  length  declared  to  be  a  "  free-citizen- 
ess,"  free  to  act  according  to  her  own  pleasure,  and  to  take 
part,  either  by  word  or  deed,  as  it  pleased  her,  in  every  circle 
alike. 

They  agreed  upon  their  futuremeetings,  whether  family-^nse 
or  for  general  assembly,  and  then  separated.  Thus  amid  joke 
and  earnest,  and  amid  general  mutiial  good-will,  was  formed  the 
little  federal  union  which  was  destined  to  exercise  so  great  an 
influence  upon  the  fate  of  many  of  its  members,  and  which 
Mimmi  Svanberg  called  "  Something  new  under  the  sun." 

Mrs.  Tupplander  did  not  exactly  know  what  to  say  about 
the  whole  undertaking;  whether  it  was  a  proper  thing  or 
whether  it  was  not.  She  looked  at  the  Honorable  Miss 
Krusbjorn.  But  when  the  Honorable  Miss  Krusbjorn  took 
ofi"  her  wig  to  cool  her  enthusiasm,  for  she  was  reaUy  of  an 
enthusiastic  disposition,  and  declared  that  she  had  never  seen 
anything  Hke  it,  and  that  she  would  make  soup  for  the  socie- 
ty aU  the  days  of  her  hfe,  for  that  it  was  to  make  soup  for 
God  the  Father  himself,  and  for  all  His  family ! — then  was 
Mrs.  Tupplander  satisfied,  and  said,  "That  there  should  not 
be  any  want  of  soap  for  the  poor  towns-folk  as  long  as  slie 
herself  lived  there." 

And  thus  these  two  also  accepted  their  allotted  parts  v,\;ll 
satisfied. 


166  THE  FOUa  SISTERS. 


HERTHA'S  PART. 

Hertha's  part,  as  well  as  that  of  Ingeborg  TJggla,  was,  as 
we  have  seen,  decided  by  the  shai-e  the/  had  taken  in  tho 
labors  of  the  first  morning  after  the  great  fire.  Dr.  Heder- 
mann  called  them,  with  a  sort  of  fatherly  pleasure,  his  daugh- 
ters and  amanuenses,  and  evidently  entrusted  to  them  the  care 
of  those  who  had  received  burns  and  other  injuries  during  the 
fire.  He  supplied  them  with  medicaments,  and  laid  down  the 
mode  of  treatment,  which  he  left  the  young  female  physicians 
to  apply  and  carry  out,  having  soon  had  sufficient  proof  of 
their  skill  in  doing  so,  which  he  had  witnessed,  both  with 
pleasure  and  a  certain  admiration,  though  he  took  care  not  to 
let  it  be  noticed.     His  highest  praise  being  merely  : 

"  Very  well  done.  Only  go  on  as  you  have  begun.  Only 
persevere !" 

The  good  doctor  in  fact  was  so  occupied  by  the  amount  of 
sickness  which  foUowed  the  fire,  by  the  colds,  the  catarrhs, 
and  pleurisies,  which  it  occasioned,  that  he  was  greatly  in 
need  of  aU  the  extraneous  assistance  which  could  be  rendered 
him  by  the  dififerent  members  of  his  new  family. 

Most  people,  when  they  think  of  wounds  and  the  dressing 
of  them,  think  of  something  which  is  disagreeable  and  repul- 
sive. We  beUeve  nevertheless  that  some  there  are  who  would 
understand  us  if  we  spoke  of  the  pleasure  and  charm  of  such 
an  occupation.  Women  in  the  old  times  were  renowned  for 
their  skill  as  leeches ;  and  from  the  most  remote  antiquity 
have  they  been  distinguished  as  such,  even  in  the  north,  and 
still  there  are  some  to  this  day  amongst  us  who  are  thus 
remarkable.* 

*  I  trust  it  -will  be  permitted  to  me  here  to  say  a  few  -words  of  high 
esteem  and  acknowledgment  regarding  the  female  surgeon  of  Stockholm, 


TlIK   FOLK   SlSTEilS.  167 

The  true  female-surgeon  looks  upon  the  wound,  as  a  mo- 
ther looks  upon  a  sick  child ;  and  Avhen  the  wound,  well  cleans- 
ed and  washed,  smiles  at  her  with  a  certain  fresh  and  calmed 
expression  as  if  it  would  thank  her  for  the  treatment,  she  on 
her  part  regards  it  with  a  feeling  of  satisfaction  and  pleasure. 
She  lays  upon  it  the  fine  white  lint,  spread  with  healmg  omt- 
ment ;  she  presses  softly  upon  it  folds  of  fine  linen  ;  she  binds 
it  with  white  bandages ;  she  tends  it  as  though  it  were  a  httle 
child,  and  feels  involuntarily  for  it  a  tender  and  maternal 
sentiment.  When  she  thus  sees  it  well  attired  and  comforted, 
and  reads  in  the  countenance  of  the  patient  how  comforted  he 
or  she  has  become,  and  thenceforward,  day  by  day,  sees  her 
nurse-chUd  becoming  better  and  better,  which  is  the  rule  for 
these  injuries,  then  does  the  healing-art  appear  to  her  lovely 
and  agreeable,  almost  as  one  of  the  fine  arts  itself  She 
knows  besides,  that  for  this  in  reahty  simple  art,  there  are 
wholly  dissimilar  gifts,  and  wholly  dissimilar  fingers,  and  one 
and  all  with  joy,  know  themselves  to  be  artists  in  their  parti- 
cular branch. 

Thus  was  it  with  Hei*tha  and  Ingeborg,  and  the  peculiar 
love  and  delicacy  with  which  they  pursued  their  vocations 
made  them  doubly  welcome  and  beneficial  to  their  patients. 

Among  these  was  Yngve  Nordin.  He  had,  as  the  reader 
may  remember,  been   carried  away  after  the  fire  was  ex- 

o 

Miss  Arberg,  and  at  the  same  time  to  express  the  wish  that  some  of  the 
■wealthy  who  occasionally  send  their  carriages  to  fetch  the  skilful  surgeon- 
ess,  will  some  time  or  other  take  the  trouble  of  seeing  the  reception  which 
she  every  day  gives  to  the  poorest  population  of  Stockholm,  who  come 
streaming  in  to  her  through  open  doors  with  their  wounds  and  injuries. 
Then  they  would  be  filled  with  admiration,  as  we  have  been,  of  the 
unwearied  patience,  the  cheerful  temper,  as  well  as  of  the  liberality  with 
which  she  gives  her  time,  her  skill,  and  her  ointments  to  the  thousands  who 
have  nothing  to  give  her  but  their  thanks,  which  sometimes  even  are 
transformed  by  the  ignorant  and  depraved  into  abuse.  They  would  then 
wish,  as  we  have  done,  to  provide  her  a  better  place  for  her  benevolent 
activity  than  she  now  has,  and  the  means,  without  too  great  a  loss,  of  eon- 
fcinuing  it ;  and  they  would  perhaps,  more  fortunate  than  ourselves,  be  abl« 
to  accomplish  that  which  they  wished. 


168  THE   FOUIl   SlSTEiiy. 

tinguished,  to  the  parsonage,  with  his  left  arm  vogethei  witt*. 
his  loiee  greatly  hijured  by  the  falling  of  a  Avail,  Doctor 
Hedermann  took  Hertha  with  him  on  his  visits  to  this  patient, 
and  taught  her  how  to  bind  the  injured  Hmbs.  In  the  begin- 
ning, when  Yngve  suffered  also  from  fever,  he  himself  visited 
him  every  day.  But  when  he  became  convalescent  he  often  sent 
Hertha  alone  to  attend  to  the  jjatient,  and  came  himself  only 
every  other  day,  and  after  that  only  twice  a  week,  in  order  to 
ascertain  that  he  was  properly  attended  to.  When  the  young 
physicianess  first  came  alone  she  asked  the  pastor's  wife  to  go 
in  \t  ith  her  to  the  invalid.  The  pastor's  wife  did  so,  but  soon 
went  out  again,  partly  because  Yngve  often  talked  with 
Hertha  on  subjects  which  made  her  yawn,  or  read  poetry  to 
her  in  language  which  she  did  not  understand,  and  partly 
because  she  could  not  remain  long  in  the  sickroom  uninter- 
rupted, being  called  out  perpetually  by  many  people  and  for 
many  things. 

"  But — is  it  Avell  that  they  are  so  long  together — those  two 
young  folks  ?  "  said  the  pastor  one  day,  a  little  doubtfully,  to 
his  wife ;  "  the  young  girl  has  no  mother ;  you  ought  to  be 
that  to  her !  " 

"  I  would  very  Avillingly  be  so  to  her,"  replied  the  pastor's 
wife,  "if  I  could  only  escape  sitting  there  the  Avhole  time, 
while  she  dresses  his  wounds,  and  they  talk  about  things  which 
don't  concern  me,  and  he  reads  to  her  English  which  I  don't 
understand,  and  I  am  obliged  to  sit  there  like  a  sheep.  No, 
that  is  more  than  I  can  do  ;  I  must  look  after  my  house  and 
my  servants.  There  is  no  danger  with  those  young  people, 
you  knoAV ;  I  think,  for  my  j^art,  that  our  Lord  has  them  in 
his  good  care !  " 

Our  Lord  had  so ;  and  in  a  much  higher  sense  than  the 
pastor's  wife  thought  of  Yngve's  injuries  were  not  dangerous 
for  life  or  limbs ;  he  would  certainly  soon  be  well  and  wholly 
restored,  yet  stUl  they  were  of  that  kind — the  injury  to  the 
knee  in  particular — which  required  much  care,  much  time,  and 
much  patience.  The  young  man  had  no  remarkable  share  of 
the  latter,  he  longed  fcr  activitv.     It  was  a  severe  trial  to  him 


TilK    v.  nil   SISTKRS.  169 

to  be  compelled  to  hear  and  to  wait,  Ilertha's  society  and 
conversation  became  soon,  therefore,  as  necessary  to  him  as 
her  care.  But  his  also  at  the  same  time  obtained  an  imex- 
pected  influence  over  her.  They  had  met  and  had  stood  by 
each  other's  side  in  the  hour  of  danger,  amid  fire  and  flame. 
This,  together  with  the  similarity  in  thought  which  their  first 
conversation  had  betrayed,  gave  them,  now  that  they  were 
again  thrown  together  by  fate,  a  feeling  of  fi-iendship,  a 
brotherly  and  sisterly  acquaintance,  which  removed  all  em- 
barrassment and  made  their  intercourse  easy  and  agreeable. 

In  order  to  occupy  Yngve's  thoughts  and  turn  them  to  a 
more  pleasing  subject,  Hertha  requested  him  to  read  some- 
thing aloud  to  her  whilst  she  was  engaged  in  attendmg  to  her 
surgical  duties.  He  in  tliis  way  made  her  acquainted  w^ith  his 
favorite  modern  poets,  and  read  to  her  in  particular  those  of 
his  fi'iend  the  young  American  bard,  James  R.  Lowell,  in 
vt^hich  all  the  ideas  of  the  new  world  and  the  new  time,  fi-ee- 
dom,  labor,  pure  joy  and  brotherhood,  a  perfected  life  for  aU  in 
the  great  drama  of  the  world,  found  an  eloquent  expression, 
and  wei"e  presented  in  a  bewitching  form.  These  poems  gave 
rise  to  many  questions  and  much  thought.  Yngve  had  sj^ent 
two  years  in  the  United  States,  and  had  deep  sympathy  with 
the  young  upward-struggling  life  which  is  in  agitation  there, 
as  well  as  in  the  free  states  of  Europe,  but  which  there  found 
a  foller  and  freer  expression.  He  loved  to  talk  on  this  sub- 
ject. 

"And  the  women  in  the  ne>T  w^orld,"  inquired  Hertha  on 
one  occasion,  "  have  they  poured  forth  no  song,  no  lofty  and 
large-hearted  desires  and  aspirations  as  the  men  have  done  ?  " 

Yngve  told  Hertha  of  the  noble  women  with  whom  he  had 
become  acquainted ;  whose  religious  earnestness  and  liberal- 
minded  fellow-citizenship  had  greatly  influenced  the  develop- 
ment of  his  own  mind.  He  made  her  acquainted  with  the 
movements  in  the  Free  States,  which  are  there  known  under 
the  name  of  "  Woman's  Rights  Conventions,"  and  read  to  her 
many  large-minded  sentiments  of  progress,  from  the  lips  of 
women  during  these  assembUes.     He  justified  them  against 


170  THE   FOUU   tJlSTERS. 

the  misconcejotions  with  which  they  were  regarded  hy  prejci- 
dictid  eyes,  and  showed  that,  what  women  on  these  occasiona 
demanded,  beyond  everythmg  else,  was  their  right  to  an 
education  and  a  freedom,  which  afforded  to  every  one  a  possi- 
bility and  a  means  of  becoming  that  which  God,  by  the  gifts 
which  he  has  bestowed  upon  her,  calls  her  to  be, 

Hertha's  heart  beat  high,  proudly  and  joyfully  at  the  same 
time,  when  these  communications  were  made  to  her.  She 
felt  proud  on  behalf  of  her  sex,  proud  of  the  words  which 
women  had  uttered,  and  of  the  future  in  which  they  were  the 
pioneers ;  she  felt  humble  when  she  thought  of  the  great  re- 
sponsibility which  was  laid  upon  them,  and  happy  when  she 
saw  men  combating  for  this  object,  as  if  it  were  their  own ; 
and  when  she  heard  a  young  man,  as  now,  advocating  these 
views  with  earnestness.  Never  did  Hertha  feel  less  incUned 
to  insist  upon  the  dignity  of  the  rights  of  her  sex  than  now. 
She  only  felt  a  strong  desire  to  be  worthy  of  a  noble  justice. 
Often  did  the  two  young  friends  imagine  together  pictures  of 
the  future  which  would  dawn;  of  the  beautiful  and  the  pure 
life  which  would  exist  when  man  and  woman  should  become, 
m  a  far  higher  degree  and  significance  than  now,  each  other's 
helper  in  Ufe,  giving  to  each  other  a  hand  in  all  earthly  labor, 
each  according  to  his  nature  and  his  gifts,  as  equals  and  as 
friends,  in  want  and  in  joy. 

During  such  conversations  it  happened,  as  might  be  ex- 
pected, that  the  two  speakers  looked  deeply  into  each  other's 
eyes  and  each  other's  souls,  and  that  they  found  each  other 
beautiful,  as  they  thus  beamed  upon  each  other  truth  and 
mutual  satisfaction.  It  also  happened  sometimes,  that  the 
minutes  sped  along  on  such  rapid  wings,  that  they  never  re- 
marked the  flight  of  time  till  hours  were  passed,  and  the 
striking  of  the  clock  reminded  Hertha  that — she  was  "  ex- 
pected at  home." 

Once,  during  such  a  prolonged  conversation,  it  happened 
that  they  sUd  unawares  into  the  familiar  thee  and  thou.  It 
came  so  naturally,  so  entirely  of  itself,  that  though  both 
crimsoned,  Yugve  exclaimed  with  enthusiasm  : 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  ITi 

"Ah,  let  it  be  so ;  it  is  just  as  it  ought  to  be.  Are  we  not 
on  the  familiar  thee  and  thou  terms  in  our  feelmgs,  our  views, 
our  aspirations  ?  Why  then  should  we  not  be  so  in  reality  ? 
It  was  not  mere  accident  which  made  the  httle  word  escape 
our  lips.     It  was  necessity  ;  it  was  truth. 

"  Be  thou  my  good,  my  stern  friend,"  continued  he  with 
emotion.  "  I  have  never  possessed  such  a  one,  but  I  need  it. 
My  love,  ray  endeavors  are  pure  :  but  I  do  not  find  in  myself 
the  earnestness  and  the  steadfastness  which  I  wish  for.  I  have 
been,  to  a  certain  degree,  spoiled  by  prosperity,  by  too  partial 
friends,  by  a  mother  who  has  been,  perhaps,  too  tender  and 
aifectionate.  I  am  too  desirous  of  praise  and  easy  success,  too 
much  afraid  of  ofiending  or  running  against  the  prejudices  of 
others,  even  for  the  sake  of  truth.  I  would  become  different, 
I  would  become  a  man  such  as  you  could  highly  esteem. 
Help  me  to  be  such,  Hertha ;  always  tell  me  the  truth ;  never 
spare  that  which  you  regard  as  weak  or  as  blameable  in  me  ; 
be  always  honest  towards  me,  and  thus  you  will  become  not 
merely  my  physician,  but  also  my  soul's  friend  and  bene- 
factor." 

This  pleased  Hertha  right  well.  She  besought  Yngve  to 
perform  the  same  kindness  to  her  in  return,  and  thus  was 
formed  a  bond  of  friendship  between  them,  the  soul  of  which 
was  to  be  an  incessant  endeavor  after  the  highest  purity  and 
love  of  truth,  together  with  the  most  unflinching  candor. 

This  gave  a  new  impulse  and  renewed  life  to  their  inter- 
course and  then*  conversation.  Hertha  had  long  since  been 
accustomed  to  a  certain  independent  mode  of  speaking  what 
she  thought,  Avithout  regard  to  its  offending  or  exciting  an 
antagonistic  spirit  in  others.  She  had  done  it  in  bitter  dis- 
satisfaction with  every-day  life  and  people,  and  in  the  deep 
consciousness  of  her  own  superior  power.  But  in  Yngve 
Xordin  she  had  met  with  a  kindred  soul,  and  if  she  in  her 
expressions  also  treated  him,  as  she  did  his  sex,  ^\\\\\  a  certain 
unsparmg  severity,  it  was  because  she  maintained  that  men  in 
general  were  spoUed  by  the  weakness  of  women  towards  them, 
and  by  the  laxity  of  public  opinions  which  this  gave  rise  to. 


172  THE  FOUR  SISTERS. 

She  maintained  that  they  needed  a  strong  purifying  bath  of 
truth,  and  this  she,  from  time  to  time,  gave  to  her  friend  in 
no  sparing  measure. 

Yngve  Nordiu  took  it  in  good  part — partly  because  m 
many  respects  he  participated  in  her  views,  partly  because  he 
was  a  young  man  of  more  than  ordinary  nobility  and  excellence 
of  character,  and  besides,  it  was  very  interesting  to  him  to 
hear  a  young  woman,  taking  her  stand  on  pure  womanliness, 
express  herself  freely  on  a  number  of  subjects,  which  are 
commonly  banished  from  the  conversation  between  gentlemen 
and  ladies.  Besides  which  he  heard  and  saw  that,  during  her 
severe  criticisms,  she  exhibited  so  great  a  love  of  truth  and 
the  higliest  excellence,  and  took  so  high  a  view  of  the  destina- 
tion of  the  human  being  as  witness  to  the  truth  and  servant 
of  the  Most  High,  that  he  felt  himself,  as  it  were,  to  grow  in 
mental  stature  whilst  listening  to  her.  His  contempt  for  the 
mean  and  the  depraved  increased,  and  his  love  for  the  elevated 
and  the  noble  increased  likewise.  He  often  felt  himself  in  a 
high  degree  animated  by  the  ideal  which  beamed  so  beauti- 
fully in  the  soul  of  his  stern,  but  noble  friend,  and  sometimes, 
on  the  other  hand,  depressed,  dissatisfied  with,  and  mistrustful 
of  himself.  But  never  so  as  regarded  her.  He  felt  a  deep 
conviction  that  she  was  a  noble,  large-minded  woman.  It, 
then,  was  not  her  fault,  if  he  and  others  appeared  to  her  eye, 
yearning  as  it  did  after  perfection,  to  be  weak,  imperfect, 
"  half  human  beings."  And  if  it  appeared  so  to  her,  it  was 
right  in  her  to  say  so,  and  it  was  good  for  him  to  know  it. 

Besides,  Hertha  was  beautiful  when  she  gave  vent  to  her 
noble  indignation  against  what  appeared  to  her  unworthy, 
either  in  men  or  in  society.  Her  demeanor  was  always  calm, 
but  lightning  flashed  from  her  eyes.  And  however  severe  she 
might  be  as  a  judge,  she  was  always  gentle  and  excellent  as 
nurse  of  the  suffering  young  man,  and  tended  his  injuries 
Avith  hands  as  skilful  as  they  were  singularly  beautifvil. 

Yngve  had,  in  the  beginning,  regarded  her  as  a  soi-t  of 
moral  phenomenon,  which  was  very  interesting  to  him  as  a 
study.      But  the  power  she  exercised  over  his  soxil  increased 


THE   FOUR   81STERS.  173 

daily.  Hg  allowed  himself  to  be,  as  it  were,  magnetised  by 
her,  and  he  would  have  suffered  himself  to  have  been  taken 
captive  by  her,  like  a  new  Telemachu^s  by  a  new  Calypso,  if 
her  influence  had  not  been  of  that  kind  wliich  aroused,  instead 
of  lulling  to  sleep  his  spiritual  power. 

The  subject  of  their  first  conversation  on  the  occasion  of 
their  fii-st  meeting,  was  often  resumed  by  the  two  friends,  and 
canvassed  in  manifold  variations,  nor  was  Yngve  always  as 
gentle  as  he  was  then  towards  the  weakness  and  frailties 
of  her  sex.  Neither  did  Hertha  attempt  to  defend  these ; 
still  she  passed  a  milder  judgment  upon  them  than  on  those  of 
men. 

"  "Women,"  she  used  to  say,  ' '  are  not  yet  all  that  they  might 
be.  Their  full  day  is  not  yet  come.  Wait  till  then  before  you 
pass  sentence  upon  them." 

One  day  she  spoke  with  much  bitterness  of  the  lenity  with 
which  public  opinion  regards  the  offences  of  men  against  the 
law  of  morality,  in  comparison  with  the  severity  with  whit-h  it 
treats  those  of  woman,  especially  if  she  be  young,  unprotected 
and  poor, — branding  her  all  the  more  if  she  be  noble  enough 
to  bear  the  consequences  of  her  false  step. 

Yngve  perfectly  agreed  with  her  in  this  respect,  but  the 
subject  appeared  to  be  painful  to  him ;  he  crimsoned,  and 
turned  his  eye  away  from  her.  Hertha  also  crimsoned,  and 
dropped  the  subject  for  the  time,  only  to  return  to  it  on  some 
future  occasion  with  deeper  earnestness.  But  this  subject  cast 
a  shadow  for  the  time  over  Yngve's  image,  which  had  begun 
to  beam  in  her  soul  with  unusual  purity  and  beauty.  She  re- 
called to  her  mind  the  remark  of  the  old  lawyer,  Judge  Carl- 
son, respecting  him  and  his  fickleness,  on  the  first  evening  she 
saw  him,  and  she  thought  to  herself: 

"  After  all,  then,  he  is  like  the  usual  run  of  men.  Even  he 
is  not  blameless."  This  reflection  grieved  her,  and  she  became 
more  reserved  and  stern  in  her  behavior  towards  him. 

Many  would  have  fancied  that  Hertha's  behavior  and  con- 
versation might  have  awoke  dislike  in  Yngve,  and  made  love 
impossible.     Yes,  certainly,  that  love   Avhich  is  pictured  as 


174  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

driving  in  the  cloud  in  the  effeminate  chariots  of  Venus  or 
Freja.  But  there  is  a  love  of  a  higher  character,  which  human 
beings  venerate  and  pay  homage  to  with  justice — 

For  he  is  a  God  ; 

He  knows  his  own  paths, 

And  the  paths  which  lead  through  the  cloud. 

Besides,  persons  of  strong  and  independent  character,  Hke 
Hertha,  might  very  easily  offend  fine  folks,  high-bred  ladies 
and  gentlemen  (when  they  have  not  superior  minds),  and  espe- 
cially gentlemen  of  the  corps  diplomatique  and  all  such  as  are 
more  versed  in  drawing-room  hfe  than  in  life's  most  holy  sanc- 
tuary ;  but  they  exercise  a  pc  werful  influence  on  all  such  cha- 
racters as  feel  an  impulse  towaids  the  morally  pure  and  strong. 
When  such  as  these  meet  with  a  soiil  free  fi'om  human  fear, 
loving  to  hve  in  those  regions  where  unveiled  truths  dwell  in 
her  sacred  light,  they  are  enchanted  by  it,  even  if  it  should 
appear  under  the  form  of  a  Eumenid. 

The  Eumenides  were  women,  and  a  secret  love  was  mingled 
with  their  chastising,  scourging  j^ower. 

Hertha  was  regarded  by  Yngve  in  this  light,  and  he  gave 
himself  up  "with  a  sort  of  rapture  to  the  sentiment  of  pure  admi- 
ration with  which  she  inspired  him.  She  awoke  within  him, 
however,  sentiments  of  another  kind.  Often  when,  with  crush- 
ing invective,  she  gave  vent  to  her  indignation  against  some- 
thing mean  or  unjust,  Yngve  fixed  his  eye  upon  her  with  a 
keen  and  penetrating  expression,  as  if  he  would  ask,  "  How  is 
it  that  thou  still  so  young  hast  become  so  bitter  ?"  It  dis- 
tressed him  on  her  account,  and  awoke  the  desii'e  in  his  heart 
to  reconcile  her  with  hfe. 

Neither  this  glance  nor  this  desire  was  unobserved  by  Her. 
tha.  How  little  need  is  there  of  words  between  souls  which 
are  in  harmony  with  each  other  !  The  magnetic  spiritual  cur- 
rents pass  through  them  with  fulness  of  life.  And  occasion 
soon  offered  for  Yngve  to  operate  openly  on  Hertha's  soul. 

Hertha's  views,  both  of  the  world  and  of  life,  were  in  reahty 
very  gloomy.     She  had  only  seen  the  darkest  side,  whether  of 


THE  FOUR  SISTERS.  1T5 

life  or  of  history.  Human  beings  seemed  to  her,  for  the  most 
part,  either  to  be  executioners  or  victims,  and  in  both  cases 
slaves.  The  former  excited  her  hatred,  the  latter  her  compas- 
sion. Injustice  and  suffering,  force  and  falsehood  and  dark- 
ness, seemed  to  her  to  have  the  world  in  dominion  from  cen- 
tury to  century.  The  one  age  of  humanity  was  in  truth  no 
better  nor  wiser  than  the  other.  Mankmd  discovered,  indeed, 
new  means  and  machines  for  their  advantage  or  pleasure,  or 
else  to  destroy  one  another  in  larger  masses ;  but  the  indivi- 
dual man  continues  still  the  same,  equally  circumscribed, 
equally  cruel,  and  equally  weak,  equally  imperfect  to-day  as 
yesterday,  and  for  thousands  of  years  past.  We  have  a  pre- 
sentiment of  the  perfection  of  God  in  our  consciences ;  we 
fancy  that  we  sometimes  perceive  a  ghmpse  of  his  image  in 
some  great  and  good  human  being  who  Avanders  alone  on  the 
earth,  for  the  most  part  misunderstood,  most  frequently  slan- 
dered, and  finally  crucified  by  his  age  for  the  sake  of  his  supe- 
rior love.  But  the  Great  Invisible  himself  and  his  government 
are  hidden  from  us,  and  are  incomprehensible  to  us  ;  they  are 
dark  mysteries,  and  human  life  on  earth  a  dark,  and  to  the 
greater  number,  a  joyless  riddle.  We  speak  about  a  faith  and 
a  hope  which  we  in  reality  do  not  possess.  We  wander  in 
twilight,  and  know  not  whence  we  come,  nor  whither  we 
shall  go. 

To  these  gloomy  views,  which  often  returned,  and  which 
exhibited  the  dark  depths  of  Hertha's  soul,  Tngve  opposed  the 
light  which  he  derived  from  theology  and  history,  his  favorite 
subjects,  to  which  he  had  exclusively  devoted  himself  when  he 
had  studied  with  the  intention  of  becoming  a  minister  of  the 
Gospel,  This  career  in  life  he  had  only  abandoned  from  the 
necessity  not  only  of  providing  for  himself  as  soon  as  possible, 
but  also  for  his  tenderly-beloved  mother.  He  selected  there- 
fore a  path  which  would  all  the  more  rapidly  conduct  him  to 
this,  object.  Yet  at  the  same  time  he  did  not  neglect  his 
favorite  studies,  but  steadfastly  pursued  in  them  the  develop- 
ment of  the  age  and  the  human  mind.  A  clear  intellect  and  a 
heart  open  to  the  innermost  of  life  enabled  him  to  separate  the 


1T6  THE    FOni   SISTERS, 

gold  from  the  dross,  and  in  any  case  to  possess  himself  of  the 
pure  ore. 

He  now  endeavored  to  impart  to  his  friend  that  which 
he  himself  had  found  and  possessed,  as  the  most  precious 
treasure. 

He  endeavored  to  show  her  from  the  pages  of  history  how 
God,  in  the  beginning  dimly  perceived  by  the  darkened  con- 
science of  man,  yet  entering  into  and  brightening  it  by  de- 
grees, was  partially  comprehended  at  first  in  scattered  rays, 
circumscribed  forms,  or  by  lightning  flashes,  which  for  the 
moment  illumined,  but  often  at  the  same  time  bhnded  the  still 
weak,  uncertain  human  glance ;  he  endeavored  to  show  her 
how  He,  spite  of  this,  continually  became  more  intelligible  to 
the  eye  of  the  world,  until  he  fully  unveUed  his  divine  coun- 
tenance in  the  Son,  and  revealed  in  him  that  which  he  in  eter- 
nity is,  works  and  icills.  Yngve  endeavored  to  place  human 
history  before  Hertha  as  a  means  of  education  with  respect  to 
self-knowledge  and  to  God.  He  endeavored  above  all  things 
to  fix  her  eye  upon  that  form  in  whom  he  has  revealed  to  us 
his  own  being;  for  he  maintained  with  the  great  historian, 
Johannes  von  Miiller,  that  "from  this  point  all  the  cardinal 
questions,  whether  of  Hfe  or  of  history,  may  be  answered ;  all 
enigmas  solved,  and  the  whole  world  itself,  sunk  in  sin  and 
sorrow  as  it  is,  be  elevated  and  enlightened." 

Yngve  saw  in  Hertha,  more  than  once,  a  full  comprehension 
of  the  vision  of  light,  which  he  called  up  before  her.  But  it 
endured  in  her  soul  no  longer  than  the  hghtning-flash  through 
the  night,  over  which  the  clouds  again  close  with  impenetra- 
ble darkness.  She  turned  her  sorrowful  and  questioning 
glance  upon  human  hfe  of  yesterday  and  to-day.  Must  it 
remain  thus,  for  ever  ? 

And  then  Yngve  showed  her  also,  from  historical  data,  that 
an  augmenting  flood  of  life  and  hberty  is  actually  advancing 
over  the  earth  from  one  century  to  another,  extending  itself 
still  more  and  more.  Sometimes  checked — nay,  even  driven 
back  for  shorter  intervals — it  appears  in  the  long  run  ever 
victorious,  ever  embracing  new  peoples  and  realms,  or  calUng 


XriE    FOIH    SJSTERS.  177 

forth  a  higher  devclopemcnt  in  those  ah-eady  secured.  Even 
as  the  Nile,  as  soon  as  it  becomes  fructified  by  a  drop  from 
heaven,  perpetually  increases  and  fructifies  the  plains  of 
Egypt,  so  huiBan  life, — especially  since  the  history  of  Christi- 
anity has  become  part  of  it, — has  become  an  ever-advancing 
progress  into  light,  liberty,  and  happiness. 

"  You  say,"  continued  Yngve,  "  that  the  human  being  of 
to-day  is  no  better  and  no  happier  than  his  predecessor  of 
eighteen  centuries  ago ;  that  no  human  being  is  now  holier 
than  the  Virgin  Mary  or  the  beloved  disciple  John.  That 
may  be,  because  the  human  being  cannot  attain  to  above  a 
certain  degree  upon  earth.  But  this  degree  may  be  high 
enough  to  make  him  worthy  of  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven. 
And  I,  for  my  part,  should  be  quite  satisfied  Avith  a  heaven 
peopled  with  beings  whose  life  is  truth  and  love.  And  from 
century  to  century,  especially  smce  the  new  birth-day  of 
humanity,  the  number  of  such  as  attain  to  this  degree  in- 
creases ;  the  circle  of  such  enlarges,  as  we,  the  community  of 
earth,  obtain  immunity  asfi-ee  citizens  in  heaven,  and  on  earth 
obtain  the  privilege  and  the  possibility  of  the  highest  human 
freedom  and  dignity.  This  is  the  explanation  of  God's  govern- 
ment, and  of  human  life  on  the  earth.  Temporal  happmess  or 
misfortune  are  exceptional  moments.  The  important  thing  is, 
that  the  human  being  attains  to  God ;  every  other  good  comes 
with  that,  sooner  or  later.  Earthly  prosperity  and  happiness 
grow  as  a  consequence  of  spiritual  freedom  and  self-govern- 
ment, and  continually  bear  a  proportion  to  them.  Compare 
the  whole  popular  life  of  the  early  Christian  people  with  that 
of  the  present  day ;  compare  pagan  China  with  the  free  com- 
munities of  North  America,  and  you  will  see  it  plainly  ;  you 
will  see  that  God  makes  known  his  being  in  humanity  by 
means  of  a  godly  human  life,  and  doctrine  engrafted  upon  the 
tree  of  popular  life.  If  our  social  life  still  exhibits  so  much 
imperfection  and  deficiency,  it  is  witliout  doubt  because  the 
conscience  is  still  in  bondage  to  the  latter;  because  the 
Christian  law  of  hberty  is  still  only  applicable  to  one-half  of 
txie  members  of  society ;  because  the  mothers  have  not  yet 
1] 


118  THE   FOUR   SISTERS, 

become  tlie  guardians  of  the  sacred  fire  upon  its  altar.  We 
have  yet  much  to  do,  but  we  shall  do  it.  Because,  God  is 
with  us. 

"  But  the  imiumerable  human  masses,  Avhich  never  can 
enter  the  sphere  of  freedom  !  the  millions  who  live  like  cater- 
pillars, and  who  die  without  having  seen  the  light  of  the 
spirit  ?  "  inquired  Hertha. 

"  God  Almighty  lives  ! "  said  Yngve,  with  cheerful  courage, 
"  and  we  know  that  he  is  the  supreme  justice  and  love.  That 
is  sufficient.  Such  as  he  has  revealed  himself  must  he  remain 
to  be  in  all  eternity,  and  so  must  he  work  for  all  things,  under 
all  circumstances,  in  all  worlds.  We  know  that  he  will  that 
all  men  should  attain  to  the  knowledge  of  the  truth,  and  tliat 
'  all  things  are  possible  to  him.'  They  must  all  attain  to  it, 
sooner  or  later,  on  this  earth,  or  in  other  worlds.  The  sooner 
or  later  in  the  calling  of  the  individual,  or  of  a  people,  to 
enter  into  the  vineyard,  is  a  si;bordinate  thing.  All  must 
nevertheless  come,  all  may  choose  and  decide  freely  for  them- 
selves. That  is  the  ritle  of  God's  ordination,  evident  already 
for  us  on  earth." 

"  How  happy  you  are,  Yngve,"  said  Hertha  sometimes, 
"  to  have  been  able  to  learn  and  tlunk  so  much,  and  to  see 
things  so  clearly !  One's  heart  and  one's  life  may  become 
very  dark,  merely  through  ignorance." 

The  conversion  of  the  sceptic  is  often  described  as  the  work 
of  a  moment ;  as  a  mii-acle  of  di\ane  grace,  in  which  the 
human  being's  own  endeavors  and  reason  have  nothing  what- 
ever to  do.  But  we  do  not  believe  m  this.  The  conversion 
of  St.  Paul  may  be  reckoned  as  the  exception  to  the  general 
rule,  which  may  be  likened  to  the  gradual  but  irregular  break- 
ing forth  of  the  light  from  a  cloudy  sky.  The  doubt  of  the 
soul,  and  the  gloomy  facts  of  Ufe  and  human  nature  are  the 
clouds.  We  believe  that  the  sun  is  behind  them ;  we  see  it 
sometimes  burst  forth  in  a  bright  ray,  but  the  clouds  again 
collect  and  conceal  it.  We  no  longer  have  a  glimpse  of  it, 
and  the  whole  world  is  veiled  in  shadow.  Yet,  the  wind 
blows,  and  the  clouds  disperse,  or  raise  themselves  aloft ;  the 


THE    FOUR   STSTKRS.  179 

light  beams  forth  agam  and  again  for  the  inquiring  and  heaven- 
turned  eye,  until  at  length  it  gains  the  victory,  and  clouds  no 
longer  obscure  its  heavenly  image.  "  Out  of  darker  into 
Hght,  through  the  shadows ! "  is  the  usual  course  of  the 
development  of  the  higher  life  in  the  soul  of  man.  The 
moment  when  the  sun  has  fuUy  arisen  in  the  soul  of  the 
sceptic  is  nevertheless  a  wonderful  one,  and  to  him  a  miracle. 

This  we  have  lately  seen  in  the  confessions  of  one  of  the 
highest  clergymen  of  Denmark,  the  richly-gifted  Bishop 
Mynster.  We  have  seen  his  bitter  doubts,  and  his  spiritual 
combat  of  many  years,  during  which  time  he  was  the  preacher 
of  a  Gosjjel  in  which  he  was  not  a  believer,  but  the  beauty  of 
which  often  transported  him ;  we  have  seen  how  the  hght  which 
at  once  broke  in  upon  his  soul,  and  made  him  a  beheving  and 
enraptured,  happy  Christian,  came  to  him  suddenly,  in  his 
solitude,  whilst  he  was  reading  some  passage  in  "  Spinosa," 
"  wholly  unconnected  with  the  thoughts  which  all  at  once 
arose  in  his  soul,  and  made  aU  light  and  certainty  within  him." 

But  all  actual  miracles  are  flowers  which  conceal  their  roots 
under  the  surface  of  the  earth,  and  burst  forth  in  deep  con- 
nexion with  the  eternal  laws  of  nature,  although  our  duU 
human  intellect  cannot  trace  them  out. 

Hertha  sought  also,  sought  among  the  shadows  of  earth 
for  a  God,  not  merely  for  her  o'wm  soul,  her  own  happiness, 
but  for  all  souls.  For  this  reason,  therefore,  Yngve's  mode  of 
proving  to  her  his  existence,  produced  so  powerful  an  efi"ect 
upon  her  mind  ;  and  from  the  same  cause,  therefore,  arose  so 
many  new  questions,  so  many  new  enigmas  to  be  solved. 
Hertha's  earnest  spirit,  thirsting  anew  after  the  truth,  would 
not  be  satisfied  with  the  half,  or  the  incomjjlete  ;  would  not 
be  put  off  with  any  reasoning,  the  cogency  of  which  she 
did  not  acknowledge.  Her  stei'u  conscientiousness  compelled 
Yngve  stiU  more  deeply  to  reflect  upon  the  doctrines  which  he 
preached,  and  her  questionings  and  doubts  gave  him  new 
problems  to  solve,  and  caused  him  to  pass  in  their  examina- 
tion, more  than  one  sleepless  night.  That  he  himself  was  an 
honest  inquirer,  that  he  would  not  offer  Hertha  any  solution 


180  THE    FOUR   SISTERS. 

of  the  problem  of  existence,  of  tlie  soundness  of  whicn  he 
himself  was  not  fully  convinced,  and  that  he  candidly  acknow- 
ledged his  ignorance,  or  his  own  doubts,  where  they  occurred, 
were  circumstances  which  raised  him  in  Hertha's  regard  more 
than  greater  leai'ning  would  have  done.  Hence  it  followed 
that  she  had  the  fullest  confidence  in  his  honesty,  and  she 
herself  was  invited  to  seek  vnth  her  friend  for  elucidations  of 
those  difficulties  Avhich  the  developement  of  theii*  minds  gave 
birth  to. 

Hertha  was  one  of  those  souls  who  must  see  in  order  to 
believe ;  she  must  see  goodness  in  the  being  and  the  ways  ot 
God  before  she  could  put  her  trust  in  them.  Until  that  was 
the  case  she  could  not  love  liim,  and  he  was  not  all-sufficient 
for  her. 

Yngve  in  the  mean  time  saw,  with  heartfelt  joy,  the  influ- 
ence which  he  had  obtained,  and  could  obtain,  over  the  soul 
of  his  friend.  The  noble  young  man's  desire  of  doing  good, 
and  of  enlightening,  was  added  to  the  desire  of  the  young  phi- 
losopher to  argue  and  prove  ;  and  when  he  saw  that  it  would 
be  months,  probably,  before  he  was  sufficiently  recovered  to 
return  to  his  profession,  he  proi)Osed  to  himself  to  go  through 
a  course  of  history  which  should  make  apparent  to  his  friend 
the  good  providence  of  God  towards  man,  and  which  could 
alone  reconcile  her  to  the  government  of  the  world  and  to  its 
governor. 

Ev  ery  time  Hertha  came,  Yngve  read  to  her  portions  of 
that  work  which  was  becoming  of  infinite  value  to  Mmself, 
and  to  which  she,  in  her  turn,  made  objections  or  remarks. 
Frequently,  also,  she  gladdened  him  by  her  cheerful  approval. 
Then  were  they  both  very  happy.  To  all  her  questions  regard- 
ing the  fate  of  the  various  nations  and  peoples  of  the  earth, 
which  seemed  opposed  to  the  just  and  loving  providence  which 
Yngve  was  endeavoring  to  establish,  he  had,  finally,  only  one 
re])]y,  and  that  was : 

"God  is  love!"  And  the  light  which  then  beamed  in  his 
glance  gave  Hertha  a  presentiment  that  this  answer  really 
might  overspread  the  vv'hole  field  of  dark  questionings,  and 


THE    FOUR    SISTERS.  181 

the  lofty  image  of  Him  who  first  made  these  Avords  an  ever- 
lasthig  proverb  on  the  earth,  stood  forth  all  the  more  exclu- 
sively and  dominantly  in  her  soul. 

The  hmiiau  mind  resembles  the  Swedish  Island  (Gottland, 
the  eye  of  the  Baltic),  which,  according  to  an  old  legend, 
alternately  elevated  itself  above  the  surface  of  the  sea,  and 
alternately  sank  below  it,  until  its  people  carried  fire  upon  the 
island,  after  which  it  remained  steadfastly  above.  So  alternately 
rises  and  sinks  the  uneasy  island  of  the  soul  seeking  for  light, 
until  a  fire  is  kindled  in  it,  a  fire  which  is  called — love  of  God. 


In  the  mean  time  spring  advanced.  The  birches  reddened 
in  the  pasture  fields  ;  their  slender  leaves  put  forth  ;  the  star- 
lings built  their  nests,  and  filled  the  air  with  their  plaintive 
whistling  and  trilling ;  the  hawthorn  bloomed  in  the  meadows ; 
the  hlacs  were  full  of  buds ;  bees  murmured,  and  all  the  fruit- 
trees  in  the  garden  were  fuU  of  blossom.  The  abundant  waters 
of  the  Httle  river  danced  down  the  wooded  steeps  of  the 
mountain  district,  where  it  had  its  birthplace,  and  down  to  the 
ever  greener  meadows  amid  which  lay  the  parsonage  of  Sol- 
berga.  When  Yngve  was  first  able  to  support  himself  upon 
his  injured  knee,  he  wandered,  leaning  on  Hertha's  arm, 
beneath  the  blossoming  trees  of  the  garden,  and  through 
copses  of  pine  and  bu-ch,  down  to  the  banks  of  the  river. 
How  extraordinarily  weak,  and  yet  how  elate  he  often  felt  him- 
self! He  was  impatient  at  knowing  himself  an  invalid ;  he 
was  enchanted  by  the  touching  beauty  of  nature — a  minor- 
key  pervades  the  life  of  the  spring  in  our  north,  even  as  per- 
vades the  northern  folk's  song, — he  was  conscious  of  a  heart- 
felt gratitude  to  her  upon  whose  faithful  arm  he  was  supj^orted 
so  firmly  and  tenderly ;  he  was  made  happy  by  the  assistance 

she  rendered  him ;  and  Hertha need  I  tell  my  lady-readers 

that  she  Avas  happy  in  rendermg  him  this  assistance  ? 

The  first  time  that  he  Avas  able  to  go  somcAvhat  farther,  she 
conducted  him  to  the  churchyard,  which  lay  on  higher  ground, 


182  THE   FOUR   SISTEKS. 

at  some  little  distance  from  the  parsonage,  and  to  Alma's  grave. 
She  had  plaited  it  with  white  roses  and  mignonette,  and  had 
placed  a  seat  opposite  to  it.  Here,  for  the  first  time,  Hertha 
spoke  of  her  beloved  sister,  and  for  the  first  time  Yngve  felt 
what  a  depth  of  tenderness  was  concealed  in  her  soul,  and 
that  the  bitterness  of  her  feelings  had  its  root  in  the  strength 
of  her  sympathy  for  the  sufiering  of  others.  Yngve  repaid  her 
confidence  by  making  her  acquainted  with  his  own  family  cir- 
cumstances— his  mother  and  her  beautiful  life.  He  described 
her  as  one  of  those  souls  so  filled  with  the  love  of  the  Saviour 
that  it  became  to  her  Uke  a  new  nature  and  a  perpetual  inspi- 
ration, which  caused  her  to  speak  and  to  act  with  a  clearness 
and  a  straightforwardness  which  captivated  or  overcame,  as 
by  the  power  of  some  beautiful  music.  He  told  her  of  his 
happy  childhood  in  this  mother's  home,  with  several  brothers ; 
how  she  taught  him  always  to  act  according  to  his  best 
convictions,  and  thus  to  be  regardless  of  consequences.  She 
used  often  to  quote  the  words  of  an  old  hymn : 

Do  right ;  do  well  in  dying ; 
And  leave  the  rest  to  God  1 

This  had  early  given  rise  in  him  to  a  cheerful  and  joyous 
disposition,  and  a  certain  fi-eedom  from  anxiety  as  regarded 
the  future.  He  described,  also,  this  mother's  person  and  man- 
ners,— described  how  handsome,  how  gentle  and  lovable  she 
was ;  how  unceasingly  and  quietly  she  labored  for  others ; 
seeking  to  strengthen,  to  raise  up,  to  comfort ;  and  how  the 
inward  peace  seemed  to  beam  around  her  whole  being,  like 
the  glory  of  a  saint. 

The  two  friends  often  returned  to  this  place,  and  to  this 
subject.  Yngve  sometimes  read  to  Hertha  the  letters  which 
he  received  from  his  mother,  now  closely  occupied  at  the  sick 
bed  of  her  brother,  Yngve's  uncle.  And  the  peculiar  life  and 
beauty  which  Yngve  had  so  lovingly  described,  breathed  forth 
from  the  letters.  Hertha  listened  to  these  communicationa 
with  the  mingled  feelings  of  pleasure  and  pain.     Sometimes  her 


THE   i'OLK   SISTERS.  183 

eyes  filled  with  sweet  tears,  as  she  contemplated  tliis  love, 
this  sweet  relationship  between  parent  and  child.  Sometimes 
she  felt  a  painful  sting  in  her  heart  at  the  contemplation  of  a 
beauty,  a  peace  from  which  she  was  so  far  apart ;  and  the 
great  admiration  and  love  which  Yngve  expressed  for  the 
feminine  type,  as  represented  in  his  mother,  at  times  gave  rise 
to  a  sentiment  akin  to  jealousy  in  her  heart. 

The  proud  mind  also  raised  itself  at  times  in  opposition  and 
self-defence. 

"  She  has  never  experienced  injustice  and  severe  treatment," 
said  Hertha,  on  one  of  these  occasions  ;  "  she  has  always  expe- 
rienced love,  and  then  it  is  an  easy  thing  to  be  gentle  and 
amiable !  " 

But  she  blushed  at  the  tone  and  the  spirit  with  which  these 
words  were  uttered,  and  aU  the  more  so  when  Yngve's  serious 
eye  was  riveted  upon  her,  as  if  enquiring  what  it  could  be 
which  had  now  wounded  her.  She  endeavored  to  avoid  it  by 
asking  still  more  of  his  mother  and  his  family  circumstances. 

The  mother  still  lived  as  a  widow,  in  the  house  of  her  elder 
brother,  and  Yngve  was  not  satisfied  with  her  position  there, 
although  she  never  complained ;  he  knew  that  she  was  not 
happy.  He  looked  forward  with  longing  to  the  time  when  he 
should  be  able  to  have  a  home  of  his  own,  and  take  his  mother 
to  five  with  him.  He  talked  with  childish  delight  of  how  he 
would  arrange  everything  for  her ;  how  her  room  should  be 
fiu-nished,  simply  and  elegantly  at  the  same  time,  as  he  knew 
she  liked  things  to  be.  Yngve  was  the  eldest  of  his  brothers, 
and  the  mother  had  given  all  that  she  possessed  for  the  educa- 
tion of  her  sons,  that  it  might  be  as  complete  as  possible.  She 
was  compelled,  therefore,  herself  to  five  on  very  circumscribed 
means.  Yet  she  felt  herself,  and  all  her  letters  testified  to 
this,  rich  in  her  sons  and  their  future.  Yngve  also  spoke  of 
his  brothers,  whom  he  cordially  loved.  They  were  some  years 
younger  than  hhnself,  and  were  only  just  now  able  fully  to 
provide  for  themselves,  the  one  as  tutor  in  a  private  family, 
the  other  as  a  naval  ofiicer. 

"  Good  lads !    excellent  lads ! "  Yngve  used  to  call  them. 


184  THE   FOUR  SISTERS. 

"jet  nevertheless  they  had  then-  faults;"  which  evidently 
had  often  caused  their  brother  uneasiness.  He  talked  about 
them  sometimes  in  a  fatherly  kind  of  tone,  which  made 
Hertha  one  day  laughingly  ask  him,  "  how  much  older  he  was 
than  his  brothers  ?" 

This  led  to  the  discovery  that  Yngve  and  Hertha  were 
nearly  of  the  same  age ;  Hertha  only  a  few  months  the  elder 
of  the  two.  Yet  it  seemed  to  Hertha  that  she  was  very  old 
in  comparison  with  Yngve.  He  was  in  fact  so  young  in  soul. 
Life  and  hope  in  him  were  in  full  blossom.  Often,  indeed, 
would  the  youthful  flow  of  his  spirits  carry  him  along  into 
playful  extravagance.  Then  he  would  joke  and  laugh  at 
everything,  and  draw  caricatures  of  the  ladies  and  gentlemen 
of  their  acquaintance,  nay,  even  of  himself  and  Hertha,  which 
made  her  smile  in  spite  of  herself;  and  however  it  might  be, 
even  she  herself  became  yoimger,  as  it  were,  during  her  inter- 
course with  Yngve.  Her  heart  grew  brighter,  so  also  did  the 
expression  of  her  countenance.  Many  remarked  that  she 
began  to  be  really  good-looking,  and  it  was  only  Mrs.  Uggla 
who  suspected  a  galloping  consumption  from  the  heightened 
and  clearer  color  of  Hertha's  ;^,Leek. 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  185 


,1  THE  NEW  HOME. 

Hertha's  new  home,  Kiillen,  was  about  two  miles  from  the 
parsonage.  Between  the  two  places  lay  the  consumed  portion 
of  the  town  mth  its  ruins  and  heaps  of  rubbish.  But  at 
KuUen  as  well  as  at  Solberga,  the  garden  was  full  of  blossom- 
ing trees.  A  garden  in  which  lilacs  and  fruit-trees  are  in  full 
bloom,  and  aroimd  which  softly  mixrmm'  thousands  of  insects, 
where  every  kind  of  shrub  and  plant  puts  forth  fresh  leaves 
day  by  day,  has  always  seemed  to  us  like  a  poem  w^hich  must 
some  way  or  another  call  forth  the  poetical  in  every  soul. 
Yes,  for  every  soul  possesses,  after  all,  a  spark  of  the  Prome- 
thean fire,  however  crushed  down  it  may  be  by  the  rubbish 
of  egotism  or  every-day  hfe.  Truly  poetical  natures  require 
but  a  very  small  portion  of  this  glory  of  the  spring  to  be 
powerfully  excited.  E.  G.  Geijer  enjoyed  the  whole  wealth 
of  nature  and  of  spring  in  a  blossoming  cherry-tree  outside  his 
window. 

Old  Mr.  Falk,  during  his  town  and  business  life,  had  almost 
forgotten  how  a  garden  looked.  Removed  from  his  usual 
siu-roundings,  and  in  a  great  measure  debarred  from  his  usual 
avocations,  which  the  shattered  condition  of  his  health  no 
longer  permitted  him  to  attend  to,  and  also  in  consequence  of 
this  enfeebled  state  of  health,  rendered  more  susceptible  than 
formerly  to  gentler  influences,  he  found  himself,  as  it  were, 
astonished  at  the  beauty  which  all  at  once  surrounded  him, 
and  spoke  to  him  of  many  subjects  with  which  he  had  in  hia 
early  youth  been  acquainted,  but  which  had  since  then  passed 
wholly  out  of  sight. 

The  early  summer  was  this  year  unusually  beautiful.  The 
Dii'ector  walked  in  the  garden,  beneath  blossom-laden  trees ; 


186  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

he  watched  the  work  in  the  garden  as  it  went  forward,  and 
presently  began  to  take  part  in  it ;  he  was  especially  interest- 
ed in  attending  to  the  trees.  Martha  and  Maria  were  seized 
with  a  perfect  passion  for  gardening ;  the  former  planted 
peas  and  beans,  and  laid  out  asi^aragus-beds ;  the  latter,  flow- 
ering-borders. Before  long  they  might  be  seen  working  in 
common  with  their  father,  whose  temper  in  the  mean  time 
became  more  cheerful  and  more  amiable.  To  this  contribut- 
ed, in  no  small  degree,  the  circumstance  of  his  having,  accord- 
mg  to  his  promise,  given  up  with  fuU  confidence,  the  entire 
domestic  economy  to  Hertha's  management.  He  allowed  her 
a  certain  sum  monthly  for  this  purpose,  but  interfered  no 
further  in  any  of  its  concerns.  Such  an  arrangement  of  domes- 
tic aifairs  cannot  be  sufficiently  recommended,  whether  the 
well-being  of  the  man,  the  woman,  or  the  family  itself  be 
considered.  The  best  of  men  become  tiresome  when  they 
take  upon  themselves  "  Martha's  cares  and  anxieties ;"  and 
we  have  known  some  clever  statesmen  who  have  become 
intolerable  masters  of  the  family  because  they  busied  them- 
selves with  the  management  of  household  details.  Arago  felt 
with  justice  that  his  veneration  for  the  celebrated  La  Place 
was  considerably  decreased  when  he  heard  his  wife  ask  him 
in  an  under  voice,  for  "the  key  of  the  sugar-box."  It  stands 
to  reason  that  we  require  from  women  that  degree  of  skill 
and  management  which  will  enable  the  men  to  leave  these 
cares  in  their  hands,  fully  assured  that  they  will  be  weU 
attended  to.  On  this  subject,  however,  enough  has  been 
akeady  preached  and  dogmatised.  But  even  here,  in  every 
case  must  be  allowed  some  rudimental  state  before  the  attain- 
ment of  the  highest  degree.  No  good  housekeeper  ever 
became  such  at  one  bound.  Only  concede  to  a  woman  a 
good  will,  time,  and  opportunity,  and  be  easy.  In  nine 
hundred  cases  out  of  a  thousand,  "  she'U  do  it !" 

Heitha  was  so  desirous  of  rewarding  her  father's  confidence, 
so  sohcitous  to  give  him  satisfaction,  that  she  soon  overcame 
her  natural  repugnance  to,  and  even  her  want  of  experience  in 
the  business  of  household  economy ;  and  never  before  had  the 


THE    FOUR    SISTERS.  187 

Director  been  so  satisfied  wiih  his  meals,  and  so  contt;nted 
with  the  management  of  his  family.  Besides  which,  since  he 
had  left  everything  in  his  daughter's  hands,  he  no  longer 
enquired  after  every  glass  which  was  broken,  or  every 
sixpence  that  was  expended,  and  this  saved  him  many  a  petty 
vexation  and  annoyance  by  means  of  which  he  used  formerly 
to  embitter  his  own  life  and  that  of  others. 

By  degrees  also  a  little  beauty  began  to  be  introduced  into 
the  house  ;  and  although  the  Du-ector  at  first  regarded  these 
innovations  with  suspicion,  he  became  reconciled  when  he 
observed  that  they  did  not  cost  him  anything.  Some  of  these 
were  ornamental  works  made  by  the  hands  of  his  daughters ; 
others  also  were  purchased  by  a  portion  of  the  present  which 
her  father  had  given  her,  and  which  Hertha  thus  appropriated 
to  the  beautifying  of  his  new  home.  There  was,  however, 
one  especial  room  in  the  house  with  a  window  on  the 
sunny  side,  and  looking  into  the  garden,  which  Hertha  arrang- 
ed and  adorned  with  peculiar  affection!  it  opened  out 
of  her  own  chamber,  and  her  sisters  called  it  "  Hertha's 
cabinet :"  but  Hertha  had,  in  her  own  mind,  given  it  another 
name. 

The  house  was  buUt  of  wood,  spacious  and  well  finished ; 
and,  all  honor  to  stone  houses,  yet  it  has  always  seemed  to  us 
that  wooden  houses  are  more  comfortable,  as  well  as  certain- 
ly warmer  and  more  healthy.  Something  of  the  calm  and  the 
peace  of  the  forest  surrounds  us  in  these  the  offspring  of  the 
forest.  They  generally  assimilate  also  more  to  nature  and 
life.  Pretty  porches  project  into  the  gardens  or  beneath 
green  trees. 

It  was  so  at  KuUen.  The  porch  opened  into  the  garden, 
overshadowed  by  tall  trees,  whilst  trails  of  fi-agrant  honey- 
suckle hung  luxuriantly  around  its  ornamental  trellis-work. 
Here  might  be  seen,  during  the  long,  Hght  summer  evening, 
the  Director  sitting  smoking  his  pij^e,  and  Aunt  Nella  near 
him,  with  her  yarringles  busily  winding  a  ravelled  skein, 
whilst  she  entertained  herself  and  her  brother-in-law  with 
stories,  to  which  he  listened  with  more  and  more  attention. 


188  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

These  two  had  passed  their  youth  together,  and  it  is  even 
said  that  a  mutual  affection  existed  between  them,  in  particu- 
lar on  her  side,  when  her  young  and  more  wealthy  half-sister 
returned  home  from  the  school  at  Stockholm,  where  she  had 
finished  her  education,  and  at  once  gained  possession  of  the  heart 
which  Aunt  Nella  had  begun  to  regard  as  her  own  property. 
But  she  tenderly  loved  this  sister ;  and  with  bitter  pain,  but 
without  anger  or  complaint,  silently  drew  back,  so  that  nothing 
might  interfere  with  her  sister's  happiness.  This  was  the 
unknown,  but  beautiful,  romantic  episode  in  Aunt  Nella's  Ufe  ; 
and  to  it  belonged  also  the  unceasingly  faithful  devotion  with 
which  she  adhered  to  her  sister,  her  brother-in-law,  and 
their  children.  Of  her  brother-in-law  she  entertained  a  dread, 
mingled  mth  love,  which  made  her,  indeed,  often  suffer  under 
his  power,  but  never  blame  him.  She  had  been  contented 
with  living  in  his  house,  like  a  silent  night-lamp,  valued  and 
called  into  requisition  only  in  the  hours  of  night  and  of  dark- 
ness. She  had  seen  her  sister  fade  away  amid  the  gloom  of 
an  inharmonious  marriage,  and  had  watched  and  wept  over 
her,  and  sometimes  sUently  thanked  God  that  she  herself  had 
not  been  married ;  yet,  nevertheless,  she  preserved  a  regard 
for  her  first  and  her  only  love,  which  made  her,  to  a  certain 
degree,  blind  to  her  brother-in-law's  faults,  which  she  called 
his  "  fixed  ideas,"  and  bcund  her  to  him  and  his  children,  as 
the  serf  is  bound  to  the  house  of  his  lord.  The  constantly 
repelled  flame  of  life  had,  in  the  mean  time,  in  her  own  solitary 
room,  kindled  the  powers  of  imagination  and  called  forth  cer- 
tain "fixed  ideas"  in  her  own  mind,  which  had  neither  foun- 
dation nor  reaUty.  In  every  other  respect  Aunt  Nella  was  a 
perfectly  honest  and  prudent  person.  She  had  an  excellent 
memory,  particularly  as  regarded  the  days  and  the  acquain- 
tance of  her  youth,  and,  like  most  elderly  people,  she  was  very 
fond  of  living  those  old  times  over  again.  As  many  of  these 
belonged  also  to  the  youthful  days  of  the  Dkector  himself, 
Aunt  Nella's  conversation  and  reminiscences  had  an  unusual 
interest  for  him  during  the  long  summer  evenings.  He  regu- 
larly longed  for  tea-time,  seven  o'clock  m  the  evening,  because 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  189 

now,  instead  of  taking  his  tea,  as  formerly,  alone  in  his  room, 
he  desired  to  be  taken  out  into  the  porch,  and  sent  to  Amit 
Nella,  requesting  her  to  let  him  have  "  a  cup  of  tea-water." 
Aunt  Nella  was  not  slow  in  obeying  his  wishes.  Her  heart 
throbbed  in  her  breast,  as  she,  with  her  yai-ringles  in  her  hand, 
hastened  out  to  the  porch  and  seated  herself  on  the  green 
bench,  exactly  opposite  her  brother-in-law,  who  commonly 
said: 

"  Well,  Aunt,  can  you  tell  me  about "  such  and  such 

an  occurrence,  or  person,  who  had  figured  in  the  days  of  their 
youth.  And  immediately  the  little  old  lady  was  ready  to  dis- 
entangle the  threads  of  innumerable  youthful  memories,  which, 
although,  it  is  true,  they  were  in  a  state  of  intricate  perplexity, 
yet  always,  like  the  knots  tied  upon  the  Quipas  of  the 
Peruvian  Indians,  served  as  points  of  memory  to  indicate  cer- 
tain persons  and  periods.  Now,  the  great  lawsuit  was  the 
most  important  of  these  points,  or,  more  coi'rectly  speaking, 
was  a  thread  which  mysteriously  ran  through  them  all,  and 
when  it  became  visible,  the  Director  used  to  grow  angry,  and 
say: 

"  Now  then,  now  then !  Are  we  at  that  again  ?  Leave  all 
those  absurdities,  and  let  us  stick  to  the  reality ! " 

But  the  great  lawsuit  was  to  Aunt  Nella  the  reality  of 
realities,  and  she  could  not  help  it:  the  mysterious  lawsuit, 
therefore,  came  up  again  and  again ;  and  when  it,  by  de- 
grees, Avas  placed  in  new  and  pecuhar  points  of  view,  and 
became  mixed  up  mth  legal  process,  in  which  the  Director 
hunself  was  mvolved,  he  began  by  little  and  little  to  listen  to 
the  story  with  a  certain  degree  of  curiosity.  There  might 
possibly,  after  all,  be  something  in  it. 

Aunt  Nella  felt  herself,  in  the  meantime,  j^robably  as  a 
night-lamp  would  feel — if  it  ever  feels  at  all — which  was  ad- 
vanced from  a  corner  in  the  nursery  to  the  drawing-room,  or 
as  a  naught — thus  0 — which  finds  the  figure  1  set  before  it. 

She  felt  herself  quite  important,  and  remarkable,  and  happy, 
to  be  thus  called  out  every  evening  and  lighted  for  her 
dreaded,  yet,  in  reality,  always  beloved,  brother-in-law.     She 


190  THK    FOUR    STSTET^S. 

felt  herself  important  to  the  whole  family,  and  so  she  was  in 
fact,  when  she  could  thus  amuse  the  master  of  the  family ;  and 
her  histories  became  more  and  more  animated,  and  the  great 
lawsuit  assumed  greater  significance  and  more  remarkable 
form.  Thus  passed  on  the  summer,  and  many  things  in  the 
family  had  become  brighter.  Hertha  was  allowed  to  employ 
her  time  as  she  liked,  and  enjoyed  this  fi-eedom.  If  her  father 
only  saw  her  at  meal-times  he  was  satisfied. 

One  subject,  nevertheless,  contmued  to  cause  her  trouble. 
It  was  that  her  father  took  no  steps  for  the  accomplishment 
of  his  promise  as  regarded  her  becoming  legally  independent. 
She  had  twice  ventured,  with  a  beating  heart,  to  remind  him 
of  his  promise  to  her ;  but  she  was  always  put  off  with  a  stern 
reply,  either,  that  she  need  not  trouble  herself  about  it,  or  by 
the  enquiry,  "  why  she  was  in  such  a  hurry  ?  If  she  wanted 
money  she  might  ask  him !  " 

The  emotion  and  the  good- will  which  had  been  excited  by  the 
events  of  the  fire,  and  by  Alma's  death,  seemed  now  to  have 
died  away  again,  and  his  selfish  disposition  was  once  more  in 
the  ascendant. 

A  young  woman  placed  in  circumstances  such  as  those  of 
Hertha  is  very  helpless.  The  nobler,  and  the  more  delicate 
and  sensitive  are  her  feelings,  the  more  difiicult  is  her  position. 
There  are  people  who,  without  any  desire  to  act  unjustly,  have 
yet  an  mdescribable  difficulty  in  giving  out  of  their  own  hands 
either  money  or  power.  We  do  not  condemn  them ;  we  know 
that  selfishness  and  avarice,  as  well  as  levity  and  indolence, 
have  their  origin  in  natural  organization,  and  that  to  a  certain 
degree  they  are  beyond  the  power  of  man. 

"  Dear  D.,  what  am  I  to  do  to  get  rid  of  this  cursed 
avfirice  ?  "  asked,  more  than  once,  the  rich  banker  B,  with  a 
sigh,  from  his  friend  and  principal  bookkeeper.  He  wished, 
but  he  could  not  free  himself  from  his  hereditary  sin.  Many 
a  human  being  here  on  earth  advances  no  further  than  the 
wish  to  do  right.  It  is  good,  nevertheless,  for  him  to  advance 
so  fur,  and — "  that  which  is  impossible  to  man  is  possible  to 
God."     We  therefore  condemn  the  selfish  man  no  more  than 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  191 

any  other  sinner,  but  we  sincerely  wish  that  human  life  and 
happiness  could  become  as  much  as  possible  wholly  indepen- 
dent of  either  the  feelmgs,  the  consent,  or  pleasure  of  indi- 
viduals. Swedish  women  have  still,  in  this  respect,  much  to 
desire  from  the  laws  of  their  native  land. 

Hertha  would  have  felt  still  more  acutely  her  father's  breach 
of  faith  towards  her,  had  it  not  been  very  evident  to  her  that 
his  powers  of  mind  were  decUning,  and  that,  probably,  in  this 
might  lie  the  grounds  of  his  procrastination.  She  saw  with 
uneasiness  that  his  memory  for  later  events  was  failing,  and 
that  it  was  difficult  for  him  to  understand  money  affairs.  Yet, 
at  the  same  time,  he  continued  with  inflexible  obstinacy,  the 
sole  management  of  them,  and  would  communicate  with  no 
one  on  the  subject.  "  Tell  me  if  you  want  money  !  "  said  he 
a  few  times,  and  seemed  not  to  have  any  idea,  or  to  be  able 
to  comprehend  how  insufficient  this  was  for  his  daughter's 
peace  or  future  prospects.  She  thought  with  great  anxiety 
of  these  future  prospects,  both  as  regarded  herself  and  her 
younger  sisters,  whose  welfare  she  now  felt  it  her  duty  to 
guard  with  motherly  care.  She  looked  around  her  for  a 
helper  in  need,  but  the  more  she  looked  the  more  she  per- 
ceived how  infinitely  solitary  she  was;  without  relation  or 
friend  who  could  give  her  advice.  Circumstances  called  upon 
her  to  be  the  support  of  the  house  and  the  family,  but  denied 
her  that  which  alone  could  have  given  her  power  as  such. 
Neither  her  freedom  nor  her  property  was  in  her  own  power, 
and  her  whole  soul  was  repugnant  to  applying  to  a  stranger 
for  comasel,  or  appealing  to  the  Swedish  Court  of  Justice  to 
compel  her  own  father  to  give  her  that  freedom  which  he  re- 
fused to  her.  Besides  this,  she  knew  the  feehng  of  Courts  of 
justice  with  regard  to  the  lately  agitated  question  of  allowing 
an  unmarried  woman  to  become  legally  mdependent  at  a  given 
age,  and  this  had  shaken  her  faith  in  their  justice. 

It  was  during  these  distressing  circumstances  that  her  soul 
aroused  itself  and  found  peace  in  its  o^^n  pure  desires,  and  in 
the  vionviction  that  the  governing  power  of  the  world  was 
more  just  than  human  laws  and  judgments.   The  Gospel  which 


192  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

Yngve  had  revealed  to  her,  began  to  diffuse  its  light  through 
her  soul.  She  often  thought  of  the  words,  "Righteous  Fa- 
ther, the  world  has  not  kno^^'n  Thee," — and  appealed  from  her 
earthly  to  her  Heavenly  Father,  now  her  only  hope,  and  con- 
tinued quietly  to  fulfil  her  every-day  duties,  attentively  watch- 
ing the  Avhile  for  any  favorable  turn  which  circumstances  might 
take,  in  the  hope  that  the  moment  would  come  when  she  could 
take  a  decisive  step  to  secure  herself  and  her  future. 

She  began  during  this  time  to  exercise  a  more  and  more 
beneficial  effect  upon  the  education  of  her  young  sisters.  She 
endeavored  to  accustom  them  to  a  settled  course  of  daily 
work,  and  showed  them  the  ultimate  object  of  this  as  beyond 
our  earthly  life.  They  must  serve  God  and  His  kingdom  in 
so  domg  ;  that  was  the  principal  thing  ;  whether  in  wealth  or 
in  poverty  was  secondary.  The  object  of  Hfe  was,  m  every 
case,  grand  and  rich  in  results.  She  talked  with  them,  more- 
over, of  the  Saviour. 

Thus  talked  Hertha ;  but  like  the  good  man,  whose  spiritual 
conflict  we  have  lately  mentioned,  often  fascinated  by  the 
lofty  doctrine  which  she  promulgated,  she  yet  withdrew  many 
a  time  to  her  own  chamber  to  shed  the  bitter  tears  of  doubt 
and  suffering.  It  often  appeared  to  her  as  if  she  consecrated 
the  lamb  for  sacrifice  ;  and  she  wept  over  her  sisters,  over  all 
the  young  souls  which  would  be  born,  live,  and  slowly  die  in 
this  hard  unrighteous  world.  Afterwards,  she  dried  her  tears 
and  went  from  her  own  room,  grave,  but  calm,  ready  to  work, 
to  sustain,  to  comfort.  She  concealed  the  tomb  in  her  own 
heart,  and  let  the  flowers  above  it  send  forth  their  fragrance 
for  others.  A  certain,  singular,  lofty,  and  touching  beauty 
developed  itself  the  while,  in  her  glance,  voice,  and  whole 
being,  together  with  an  increasing  power  over  the  souls  of 
others,  which  she  felt,  not  without  pleasure.  Her  young  sis- 
ters, in  particular,  attached  themselves  to  her  with  an  enthu- 
siastic devotion.  Her  glance,  her  words,  seemed  to  operato 
upon  them,  almost  with  a  magical  power. 

It  was  about  this  time,  when  Providence  brought  her 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS,  193 


A  NEW  ACQUAINTANCE. 

A  FRIEND  of  mine,  a  witty  lady,  said,  on  one  occasion,  that 
she  did  not  compute  her  lile  by  ordinary  years,  but  by  the 
acquaintances,  who  became  important  to  the  life  of  her  soul. 
Such  a  new  acquaintance  was  to  her  a  new-life's  year.  This 
mode  of  computing  life's  years  is  to  my  taste,  and  I  have  good 
reason  to  adopt  it.  Did  not  my  youth,  properly  so-called, 
commence  through  a  new  acquaintance,  when  the  years  which 
are  commonly  called  the  youthful,  lay  a  long  way  behind 
me! 

Hertha  had  said  the  same.  "  My  youth  is  passed ;  is  passed 
forever!"  she  had  exclaimed,  but  the  acquamtance  of  Yngve 
Nordin  had  caused  her  to  feel  that  she  never  before  that  time 
had  known  the  true  youthful-Hfe  of  the  soul,  and  day  by  day 
only  increased  this  consciousness.  One  day  when  she,  as  usual, 
accompanied  by  the  pastor's  wife,  visited  her  patient,  they 
found  with  him  Judge  Carlson,  whom  we  have  already  men- 
tioned as  a  "noble  old  man."  His  white  hair;  the unmistake- 
able  expression  of  earnestness  and  honesty  in  the  fi-ank,  cheer- 
ful countenance,  which  seemed  almost  without  shadows,  im- 
pressed the  beholder  favorably  at  the  first  moment,  and  few 
were  they  who,  on  a  nearer  acquaintance,  were  not  charmed 
by  his  gentle  humanity,  at  the  same  time  that  they  felt  a  reve- 
rence for  his  integrity  and  love  of  truth.  Truth  was  his  only 
passion,  and  he  sate  at  her  feet  like  a  disciple,  listening  and 
learning.  For  this  reason  he  never  hesitated  to  abandon  an 
opinion  which  he  discovered  to  be  faulty,  or  openly  to  acknow- 
ledge that  he  did  so.  People,  however,  who  were  afraid  of 
petty  consequences,  and  who  loved  rather  the  Uttle,  every-day 
I  than  trutli  lierself,  imputed  this  to  him  as  weakness  and 

vacillation, 

12 


194  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

He  had,  as  well  as  Yngve,  been  elected  a  member  of  the  com- 
mittee— nay  the  family,  who  were  to  prepare  a  plan  for  new 
dwellings  for  the  working-classes,  to  be  erected  in  place  of 
those  which  were  burnt  down. 

They  now  laid  before  Hertha  and  Mrs.  Dahl  then-  groimd- 
plans  and  elevations,  and  called  upon  them  to  become  fellow- 
workers  in  this  family. 

"  I  take  it  for  granted,"  said  Judge  Carlson,  "  that  mis- 
tresses of  families,  in  Swedish  towns,  have  never  been  consult- 
ed with  regard  to  the  construction  of  the  house.  I  cannot 
otherwise  account  for  the  want  of  convenience  which  prevails 
in  the  arrangement  of  dweUing-houses,  in  particular  in  the 
kitchens  and  domestic  offices.  In  our  country,  too,  where  the 
years  may  be  counted  by  the  winters,  how  important  it  is  that 
particular  attention  should  be  paid  to  the  comfort  and  con- 
venience of  those  within  the  house,  the  greater  portion  of 
whose  life  is  occupied  by  the  daily  business  of  the  necessities 
of  life.  On  the  principal  floors,  it  is  true,  care  is  taken  to  have 
the  drawing  and  dining-rooms  convenient,  but  the  other  rooms, 
those  appropriated  to  the  domestics  in  particular,  are  placed 
just  how  and  where  they  can  be ;  and  in  smaller  houses  the 
mistress  of  the  family  has  often  to  look  for  the  kitchen  across  a 
court,  a  lobby,  or  even  on  another  story.  We  must  have  this 
different ;  we  must  contrive  some  way  of  having  comfort  and 
convenience  for  the  inhabitants  within  the  house  ;  and  we  must 
now  begin  in  our  own  town — you  must  help  us  in  this !" 

These  last  words  were  addi-essed  to  the  two  ladies  now 
present. 

This  proposal  chimed  in  with  the  subject  which  was  always 
present  in  Hertha's  soul,  and  the  life,  as  it  were,  of  her  hfe. 

"  Thank  you,"  she  said,  smihng,  "  that  you  will  permit 
ladies  to  give  an  opinion  on  a  subject  which  nearly  concerns 
their  comfort, — their  well-being,  it  may  be  said." 

There  was  no  bitterness  in  Hertha's  expression,  although  in 
the  words — she  could  not  help  it — there  was  a  secret  reproach. 
The  lawyer  perceived  it,  and  accepted  the  challenge  in  a 
chivalric  manner. 


THE  Forn  sTPTKn=!.  195 

"  There  is  probably  no  one,"  replied  be  mildly,  "  who 
would  more  earnestly  wish  than  I  should  that  ladies  were 
consulted,  and  their  opinions  hstened  to  with  regard  to  most 
of  the  questions  of  life.  Their  natural  tact  and  intuitive 
perception  would  make  them  the  best  of  councillors, 
especially  if  they  were  educated  fully  to  comprehend  the 
subjects  which  would  be  likely  to  come  under  discussion." 

"  Which  are  these  subjects  ?"  asked  Hertha. 

But  now  a  great  difference  was  discovered  in  the  views 
entertained  by  Judge  Carlson  and  Hertha.  The  old  lawyer 
conceded  to  woman  the  very  highest  influence,  an  influence 
indeed  which  would  operate  upon  the  whole  race,  through 
her  action  upon  domestic  life  and  raorals ;  he  would  desire  to 
see  her  developed  to  her  utmost  power  and  extent,  for  the 
benefit  of  home,  husband,  children,  parents,  brothers  and 
sisters,  and  through  the  domestic  circle,  for  society  at  large  ; 
but  he  would  not  desire  to  see  her  education  directed  to  any 
sphere  of  action  beyond  domestic  life  and  its  immediate 
world.  He  would  have  public  seminaries  for  her,  but  only 
with  the  intention  of  developing  her  for  that  sphere  "  which 
nature  evidently  and  natm'e's  lord,  created  her  for." 

They  were  the  views  of  the  old  school  which  he  propound- 
ed, although  with  some  modifications  in  a  liberal  direction, 
and  with  an  exception  in  favor  of  imusually  gifted  ladies. 

Hertha  could  not  be  silent ;  could  not  Hsten  to  a  noble- 
minded  man  expressing,  according  to  her  views,  opinions  so 
utterly  imperfect,  without  her  spirit  raising  itself  like  a  north- 
ern Amazon  on  her  war-horse  to  the  sound  of  the  war-clarion. 

"  Can  any  human  judge,"  said  she  gravely  and  without 
temper,  "  pronounce  judgment  on  this  subject  ?  Has  he 
sate  in  council  with  God,  and  heard  the  Creator  say  to 
woman,  '  Thus  far  shalt  thou  go  and  no  farther  !'  Is  it  not 
to  encroach  upon  the  office  of  the  Supreme  Judge,  and  to 
circumscribe  his  kingdom,  when  himian  judges  will  brad  with 
their  statutes  a  being  whom  He  has  created  in  His  image ; 
when  they  inclose  her  in  a  small,  narrow  circle,  and  say, 
'Within  this  shalt  thou  breathe    think,    behold,    but  not 


196  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

beyond  it.  It  is  the  will  of  God !'  Oli  no,  God  has  not 
willed  it,"  continued  Hertha,  whilst  a  calm  but  inward  fire 
by  degrees  kindled  her  whole  being,  "  God  has  not  willed  it 
to  be  so.  Ask  all  mankind  and  light-seeking  souls  of  my  sex 
what  the  Creator  speaks  to  them  within  their  own  conscien- 
ces, and  you  wiU  hear  something  very  different.  May  I 
speak  ?" 

"  Yes,  speak  !"  reiolied  the  lawyer,  astonished  at  the  young 
girl's  words  and  expression,  at  the  same  time  that  he  was 
extremely  curious  to  know  what  she  would  say :  "  speak  ;  I 
A\nll  Usten  and  learn  !"  added  he  cordially,  when  she  hesitated 
a  moment  to  express  herself 

Hertha  resumed :  "  Thus  He  speaks  to  me,  and  to  every 
soul  which  seeks  for  freedom  and  hght :  '  Thou  art  my  child  ; 
and  aU  that  is  mine  is  thine,  thy  just  inheritance  and  thy 
share  ;  whether  it  be  liberty,  knowledge,  art,  power,  happi- 
ness, or  whatever  else  which  I  have  created  in  the  world,  and 
which  I  gave  to  thee  and  thy  brother  to  rule  over  and  have 
dominion  in.  Thou  art  my  youngest  child,  and  my  last 
witness  among  the  created  beings  of  the  earth.  In  thy  heart 
have  I  WTitten  my  law  of  love.  Go,  possess  thy  portion  in  my 
kingdom,  in  order  that  thou  mayest  in  all  parts  of  it  testify  of 
me,  and  help  thy  brother  to  extend  it  over  the  earth.' 

"  Thus  speaks  the  Father,  every  day  to  his  daughter.  But 
what  does  the  brother  say  to  the  sister  ?  Does  he  not  say, 
'  I  am  the  first-born.  The  greater  portion  of  the  inheritance 
belongs  to  me.  Tliou  must  be  contented  with  such 
portion  as  I  shall  leave  thee ;  because  I  am  the  strong  one, 
and  power  and  honor  and  glory  are  mine.  Seek  for  labor, 
for  light,  and  for  joy  in  the  sphere  which  I  shall  point  out  to 
thee,  and  then  thou  shalt  have  my  support  and  my  favor. 
But  take  care  not  to  intrude  upon  my  share,  otherwise  it  will 
not  be  well  for  thee ;  and  thou  wilt  be  going  out  of  thy 
proper  vocation,  which  is  to — amuse  and  to  serve  me  !'  " 

Hertha  paused  ;  the  lawyer  said, 

"  W^ll,  I  still  recognise  the  justice  of  the  brother's  speech, 
althv>r.gh  it  is  now,  in  various  countries,  becoming  considers^ 


TUfi    I'UUll    SISTERS.  197 

bly  softened,  more  reasonable,  more  manly,  but — let  us  bear 
what  the  sister  replies." 

"  '  Yes  ;'  she  replies,"  continued  Ilertha.  "  '  Brother,  God 
created  us  both  hi  his  image,  made  us  both  rulers  over  the 
earth,  and  gave  ns  each  other  for  helpers,  that  Ave  might 
together  glorify  Him  on  the  earth.  He  did  not  make  thee 
for  my  master,  and  when  thou  becamest  such,  the  order  of 
the  world  Avas  destroyed,  and  Paradise  closed  against  us. 
We  were  born  as  equals  on  the  first  morning  when  CA^ery- 
thmg  was  yet  good  ;  as  equals,  he  has  again  given  us  birth  on 
that  second  day  of  Creation  when  the  spiritual  man  is  born 
upon  the  earth,  and  has  placed  us  again  side  by  side,  as  two 
pilgrims  seeking  for  Eden,  and  only  hand  in  hand  can  we  again 
find  it.  Thou  dost  not  knoAV,  I  do  not  know  as  yet  Avhat 
poAvers  he  gi\'es  to  thee  or  me  ; — but  give  me  my  paternal 
inheritance  of  liberty,  my  portion  of  the  kingdom  of  life,  and 
of  all  which  God  has  giA'en  ns,  and  all  which  is  mine  Avill 
become  thine  and  thy  lot,  even  as  mine  wiU  be  tAvofold.'  " 

Again  Hertha  j)aused.     The  lawyer  said  : 

"  The  sister  does  not  speak  amiss  in  ahstracto  ;  but  noAv  let 
us  come  to  the  practical  application  of  her  speech.  What 
Avould  it  be,  for  example,  at  the  present  day  ?  What  Avould 
she  ask  of  her  brother  ?" 

"  The  possibility  of  an  education  and  independent  action 
such  as  he  enjoys,"  replied  Hertha  Avith  earnestness  and 
warmth.  "  Open  to  her  schools  and  colleges,  Avhich  would 
give  her  an  opportunity  of  knoAving  herself  and  her  inborn 
poAvers ;  and  afterAvards  open  to  her  the  paths  in  Avhich  she 
might  freely  exercise  them ;  otherwise  they  become  both  to 
herself  and  society  a  dead  and  buried  talent.  Remove  all 
the  old  barriers  and  limitations,  cast  aside  cowardly  tVar ; 
have  instead,  a  large-minded  confidence  in  God,  that  Ho  v\n 
guide  and  preserve  his  work.  Let  the  sister  as  well  n^^  t'le 
brother  ask  herself,  'In  what  way  can  I  serve  God  aii'!  Mis 
kingdom  on  earth?'  And  let  them  reply  by  the  free  dev^l'^p- 
ment  in  his  service  of  the  gift,  the  talent  Avhich  He  has  gi\  cii. 
Thus  together  seekmg  for  the  Supreme  Good,  will  they  not 


198  THE    FUUll    SISTERS. 

« 

find  each  other  and  be  inwardly  united,  as  is  now  very  seldom 
the  case  ?  Brother,  sister,  child  of  God !  Those  words 
ought  to  become  truth  on  the  earth,  but  they  can  only  become 
so  when  the  freedom  both  of  brother  and  sister  introduces 
the  fulness  and  the  perfection  of  both.  Do  not  say,  therefore, 
that  is  the  man's  portion  and  that  is  the  woman's  portion, 
but  say,  rather,  man  and  woman  are  two  portions  of  the  same 
humanity,  called  to  serve  God,  the  one  as  man,  the  other  as 
woman,  according  to  the  gift  and  the  power  which  He  has 
given." 

Hertha  was  silent ;  but  she  had  spoken  with  that  enthusi- 
asm which  is  the  result  of  strong  conviction,  and  which  never 
fails  to  produce  a  deep  impression  upon  the  hearers.  Judge 
Carlson  had  attentively  listened  to  her  and  contemplated  her 
while  she  spoke,  animated  by  a  noble  and  heartfelt  inspira- 
tion. When  she  ceased  speaking,  he,  too,  remained  silent 
for  a  moment,  and  then  said : 

"  You  are  the  best  advocate  on  this  subject  which  I  have 
ever  met  with,  and  I  confess  that  you  have  placed  the  subject 
before  me  in  a  new  point  of  view,  and  it  is  possible  that  the 
one  which  has  hitherto  been  mine,  may  be  altogether  too 
narrow.  In  the  mean  time,  however,  let  us  look  at  the  subject 
a  little  closer,  and  I  will  give  you  a  few  cases  to  consider. 
You  have  only  as  yet  placed  before  us  the  bright  side  of  the 
results  of  emancij^ation.  Let  us  for  a  moment  contemplate 
the  other  side." 

The  lawyer  now  advanced  many  strong  instances  of  this 
dark  side,  several  of  which  were  drawn  fi-om  real  hfe,  in 
various  coimtries,  and  gave  various  absurd  descriptions  of 
emancipated  women,  all  of  which  have  been  too  often  pro- 
duced, and  are  too  well  known,  for  there  to  be  any  necessity 
of  our  repeating  them  here.     To  this  Hertha  rej^Ued : — 

"  Have  faith  in  the  divine :  give  it  fair  play  and  it  will 
conquer ;  awaken  it,  and  let  God  be  the  guide.  The  absurdi- 
ties you  have  mentioned  have  been  produced  from  pure  con- 
tradiction ;  in  the  same  way  that  monsters  among  flowers 
are  j)roduced  from  deficiency  of  air  and  light ;  they  are  the 


THE    FOUR    S18TER:5.  199 

offspring  of  an  endeavor  Avliich  has  not  found  its  projDer  vent. 
They  prove  the  existence  of  a  life,  a  longing  which  deserved 
a  better  guidance.  Give  this,  by  means  of  justice  and  love  ; 
awaken  the  higher  consciousness ;  let  the  feminine  ideal,  or 
rather  the  human  ideal  which  woman  represents,  be  it  what  it 
may,  in  domestic  or  ci^dl  Ufe,  in  science,  art,  mechanics,  or  in 
the  highest,  the  religious  life,  stand  clearly  forth  before  the 
eye  of  woman  in  their  glowing  years,  and  they  mil  learn  to 
love  it ;  allow  them  hberty  to  form  themselves  according  to 
this  type,  and  beauty  will  then  drive  away  the  ridiculous. 
The  educational  abortions  of  which  you  sj)eak  will  vanish  as 
ignes-fatui  at  sunrise." 

The  conversation  was  long  continued  in  this  strain,  and 
Hertha,  who  was  all  the  more  inspired,  as  well  by  the  influence 
of  the  subject  itself  as  by  the  enjoyment  of  an  intellectual 
combat  with  an  opponent  of  superior  knowledge,  noble,  far- 
seeing,  and  her  o^vn  equal  in  love  of  truth,  developed  more 
and  more  her  own  inward  wealth  of  larger  views,  and  feeling 
for  the  general,  although  her  insight  mto  the  particular  might 
not  yet  be  fully  clear. 

Yngve,  at  the  beginning  of  the  contest,  had  not,  without 
fear  and  some  uneasiness,  heard  her  keen  expression  of 
opinion,  but  the  further  she  went,  the  calmer,  the  more  joy- 
ous, the  prouder  he  became  of  his  friend,  and  observed  with 
delight  the  impression  which  her  words  and  her  manner  pro- 
duced upon  the  old  lawyer.  He  had  begun  by  suj^porting 
Hertha,  but  afterwards  amused  himself  by  jocular  remarks, 
now  ui  favor  of  the  arguments  of  one  side,  and  now  of  the 
other. 

The  pastor's  wife,  who  probably  considered  the  discussion 
to  be  one  of  those  "  which  did  not  concern  her,"  went  in  and 
out  in  the  mean  time,  busied  in  covering  a  table  in  the  room 
with  a  dehcious  entertainment  of  the  fruits  of  the  season. 
Hertha  now  rose  to  assist  her  in  these  good  offices.  Excited 
by  the  conversation,  and  the  part  she  had  taken  in  it,  she 
perhaps  never  looked  so  dignified,  and  at  the  same  time  so 
gentle  and  charming,  a?  now  when  she  presented  to  the  gentle- 


SOO  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

men  tlie  boautifal  fruits  from  the  parsonage  garden.  Yngve 
watched  her,  but  he  said  nothing,  whilst  he  listened  to  the 
lawyer's  admiration  of  her  whom  hitherto  he  had  only  known 
by  report.  Hertha  saw  approving  and  loving  looks  riveted 
upon  her,  and  she  felt  herself  wonderfully  happy. 

Who  is  there,  to  whom  God  has  given  a  spark  of  the 
eternal  fire  which  they  have  felt  long  penned  up,  burning 
;uiiid  ashes  in  the  depth  of  the  heart,  and  all  at  once,  owing 
to  some  circumstance,  or  conversation  (for  a  word  may  be  a 
circumstance),  the  air  reaches  it,  the  light  is  admitted  to  it, 
and  it  lights  up  treasures  not  hitherto  known  of,  and  becomes 
conscious  of  its  own  riches  ? — such  will  perfectly  understand 
Hertha's  feehngs  at  this  moment. 

They  may  be  easily  understood  by  men  of  genius  and  intel- 
lect, but  scarcely  at  all  by  women  of  the  present  day,  so  rare 
is  it  for  their  mental  gifts  to  be  made  known  in  an  atmosphere 
worthy  of  them..  Wherever  they  exist,  they  are  early  en- 
listed in  the  service  of  vanity  and  drawmg-room  life,  and 
should  they  not  avail  for  these  j^urposes — they  are  either 
crushed  into  a  bureau-drawer  or  back  again  into  the  soul,  even 
though  it  should  be  choked  Avith  them. 

When  Judge  Carlson  rose  up  to  go,  he  took  Hertha's  hand 
with  an  expression  of  heartfelt  esteem,  and  said : 

"  We  have  met  to-day  as  combatants,  but  will  you  promise 
me  one  thing  ? — If  ever  you  should  need  a  fatherly  friend, 
and  think  that  I  could  be  of  service  to  you,  promise  that  you 
will  call  upon  me  ? " 

Hertha  pressed  his  hand  between  both  hers,  looked  into  his 
clear,  benevolent  eyes,  and  said  : 

"  Will  you  sometimes  allow  me  to  talk  with  you  ?  It  will 
strengthen  ray  faith  injustice  and  the  progress  of  good." 

"  The  progress  of  good  !  "  exclaimed  the  old  man  with  the 
fervor  of  youth  ;  "  that  is  granted,  that  is  inevitable  a»  the 
providence  of  God.  We  ought  not,  especially  at  this  time, 
to  doubt  of  the  progress  of  any  emancipation,  any  truth 
which  is  dear  to  us.  We  require  only  patience  and — courage- 
ous and  warm  hearts  such  as — thine,  young  girl !  "     And  with 


THE    FOUR    SISTERS.  201 

fatterly  tenderness  lie  clasped  Hertha  to  his  breast,  and  im- 
pressed a  kiss  ujjon  her  pure  brow,  as  he  added  :  "  God  give 
thee  light ; — enlighten  thy  sisters  ! "  He .  then  kissed  her 
hand,  boAved  deeply,  and  went  out. 

Hertha,  captivated  by  a  feeling,  a  delicious  consciousness, 
altogether  new  to  her,  had  allowed  her  head  to  rest  for  a 
moment  on  the  old  man's  breast,  after  Avhich  she  stood  silent, 
sunk  in  thought.  Yngve  looked  on  the  while,  not  without  a 
certain  feeling  of  jealousy ;  but  when  Hertha  turned  to  him 
beaming  -with  an  inward  roseate  dawn,  he  could  not  resist 
saying : 

"  How  handsome  you  are,  Hertha !  " 

"Alma  also  used  to  say  so  sometimes,"  replied  Hertha, 
whilst  an  expression  of  melancholy  overcast  her  beaming 
countenance,  "  and  I  confess  that  I  know  I  can  be  good-look- 
ing to  those  whom  I  like,  or  when  I  am  happy,  but  sometimes, 
and  "wdth  those  whom  I  do  not  like,  I  can  be  excessively 
ugly." 

"  I  can  very  well  beUeve  that,"  said  Yngve  smihng,  "  al- 
though I  have  never  seen  it.  To  me  you  have  always  seemed 
handsome,  Hertha.  You  understand  very  well  that  I  am  not 
talking  about  mere  external  beauty  ;  you  know  very  well  that 
you  are  not  what  people  commonly  call  handsome,  but  I  am  talk- 
ing of  expression — of  the  whole  being.  Just  now,  when  you 
offered  us  the  fruit,  you  seemed  to  me  a  real  Idima.  And  my 
Iduna  you  are,  and  will  continue  to  be,  my  sorrow  and 
wound-healing  goddess  !  " 

"But  who  has  very  nearly  forgotten  her  patient  this 
evening  !  "  said  Hertha,  gaily,  as  she  seated  herself  at  a  table 
to  prepare  the  white  bandages  with  which  Yngve's  knee  still 
requii'ed  to  be  bound.  The  setting  sun,  which  threw  its  rays 
into  the  room,  through  the  quivering  leaves  of  trees,  cast  a 
golden  lustre  over  Hertha's  hair  and  hands.  Yngve  had 
never  before  been  so  conscious  of  their  beauty,  and  he  ex- 
pressed what  he  felt.  Hertha  then  looked  at  him  with  a 
grave  and  almost  reproachful  glance,  as  she  said  : 

"  Don't  talk  in  that  way,  Yngve  !  " 


202  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

"  Why  not  ?  "  replied  he,  "  if  I  say  only  what  is  true  and 
what  I  think.  May  I  not  say  what  I  think  ?  And  you — are 
you  now  really  candid,  Hertha  ?  Can  it  actually  displease 
you  that  I  think  you  lovely,  and  that  I  say  so  ?  " 

*'  No  ;  on  the  contrary,  it  pleases  me  ;  but  tliis  it  is  which 
displeases  me  and — humiliates  me ;  that  having  hitherto  found 
our  pleasure  in  the  holy  and  the  highest,  the  si^iritually 
pure,  we  should  now  sink  down  into  the  common  and  the 
petty." 

"  You  are  too  severe,  my  friend.  An  innocent  joy  in  the 
physical  beauty  of  others  or  of  ourselves,  if  we  jDOSsess  any,  is 
certainly  just  and  even  beneficial.  God  has  given  us  the 
sense  of  beauty,  and  created  the  beautiful  as  an  expression  of 
His  glory.  It  is  also  a  portal  through  which  we  get  a  glimpse 
into  His  heaven." 

"  Perhaps  you  are  right,"  continued  Hertha,  "  and  yet  I 
abide  by  what  I  have  just  asked.  Perhaps  it  is  because  I  am 
afraid  of  my  own  weakness.  I  am  afraid  of  becoming  covetous 
of  admiration  in  the  usual  common  way,  and  that — I  will  not 
be.  Life,  it  appears  to  me,  is  too  earnest  and  too  great  for 
such  small  endeavors  and  small  pleasures.  And  if  you  are  my 
friend,  you  will  not  make  a  compact  with  them  against  me, 
but  will  help  me  to  despise  them.  Am  I  now  candid  enough, 
Yngve  ?" 

"  You  are  a — magnificent  girl,  and  I  will  do  all  that  you 
wish.  That  is  to  say,  that  I  will  in  certain  cases  not  say  what 
I  think.  Because  it  cannot  be  forbidden  to  me  to  think  and 
to  like.  But  you  have  an  easy  method  in  your  own  hands  of 
preventing  me  from  thinking  and  talking  as  I  have  just  done. 
Let  me  see  your  ugliest  countenance." 

"  I  don't  know  whether  I  can  show  it  you,  but  I  will  try. 
Now  I  will  see  in  you  domination  and  injustice,  as  large  as 
life !"  And  Hertha  assumed  an  expression  of  defiance  and 
menace.  After  that  she  laughed  and  said,  "  Now,  was  I  ugly 
and  repulsive  enough  ?  " 

"  Yes  and  no,"  replied  Yngve.  "  You  were  not  agreeable ; 
but — I  felt  as  if  I  Avould  make  a  compact  with  you  against 


THE    FUUil   tilSTEIlS.  203 

that  which  you  might  be  thus  looking  upon,  and  do  battle  with 
It  to  the  death — even  if  it  ^ere — I  myself!" 

"  Could  you  ?  Oh,  Yngve,  that  I  shall  not  forget !"  said 
Hertha,  "  because  now  I  imderstand  how  good  you  are ;  and 
I  know  that  you  perfectly  understand  me  !" 

Tears  filled  her  eyes  ;  but  she  hastily  diied  them  as  she 
said: 

"  But  we  have  now  been  like  a  couple  of  children  ;  and  yet 
we  have  been  so  lately  discussing  such  grave  subjects.  Will 
you  not,  before  the  sun  sets,  take  your  evening  walk  ?  Let 
us  see  the  sunset  from  Alma's  grave  ;  and  as  we  go  along  tell 
me  something  about  the  beautiful  old  man  whose  acquaintance 
I  have  just  made,  and  whom  I  hke  already.  I  felt  my  heart 
expand  whilst  he  was  with  us.     That  is  a  glorious  feeling." 

The  two  were  soon  on  their  way  to  the  quiet  grave,  talking 
the  while  on  subjects  which  made  the  heart  expand,  because 
they  talked  of  the  hfe  and  activity  of  a  good  man  and  fellow- 
citizen. 

The   churchyard  lay  on   high  ground,  and,  from  Aim 
grave,  the   view  was  beautiful   across   the   Klar   river,   the 
meadows  and  farms  on  its  banks,  and  the  wooded  region 
beyond. 

Yngve  seemed  this  evening  more  fatigued  with  his  walk 
than  usual.  When  Hertha  sat  down  on  the  green-painted 
bench  by  the  grave,  Yngve  also  seated  himself  as  usual  upon 
a  grave-mound  close  by,  in  order  conveniently  to  stretch  out 
his  suffering  knee.  The  sun  went  down  in  glory  above  the 
mirror-bright  water;  the  evening  breeze  blew  softly,  but 
refreshmgly,  over  the  restmg-place  of  the  departed  ;  the 
fi-agrance  of  the  mignonette  was  wafted  pleasantly  from  the 
grave.  Yngve  quietly  leaned  his  head  against  the  knee  of  his 
friend.  Thus  they  sate  and  contemplated  the  beautiful  spec- 
tacle before  them  until  its  splendor  had  paled.  Neither  of 
them  spoke;  but  to  judge  from  the  expression  of  their  glances, 
Yngve  seemed  to  give  himself  up  with  thorough  enjoyment  to 
the  fulness  of  the  moment  by  the  side  of  his  noble  fnend, 
whilst  her  soul  released  itself  from  the  Ufe  of  the  preseui 


204  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

moment  to  take  in  a  remote  prospect,  which  seemed  to  present 
itself  more  and  more  clearly  to  her  inward  eye,  and  Avhich 
caused  the  fire  of  her  heart  to  burn  higher,  and  her  eyes  to 
beam  "vvith  a  stiU  more  beautiful  light. 

Yngve  observed  it,  but  would  not  disturb  her  inward  con- 
templation, her  soul's  inspiration,  by  any  question  of  his  own. 
He  respected  her  silence,  as  in  the  ancient  time  the  silence  of 
the  priestess  was  respected  to  whom  the  Divinity  spoke. 

From  this  time  the  eye  of  Hcitha's  soul  really  obtained  a 
clearer  vision ;  her  heart  a  new  hope.  She  often  found  at  the 
parsonage  with  Yngve  her  new  friend  and  acquaintance  ;  and 
the  conversation  which  was  carried  on  between  them,  and  in 
which  the  good  pastor  sometimes  took  part,  according  to  his 
peculiar  humor,  became,  through  her  leading  questions  and 
influence,  all  the  more  rich  and  illustrative. 

Frequently  when  she  walked  homeward  from  these  conver- 
sations, it  seemed  to  her  as  if  her  body  had  ^\dngs,  and  as  if 
she  breathed  -wdth  fi-esli  lungs.  Her  thoughts  developed  and 
arranged  themselves  in  a  manner  which  gave  her  indescriba- 
ble pleasure,  and  which  astonished  herself  Discords  dissolved 
away  before  the  eternal  hai-mony  that  broke  in  upon  them. 

As  she  passed  through  the  desolate  ruins  of  the  town  she 
felt  as  if  she  must  break  forth  into  singing. 

When  she,  after  such  conversation,  re-entered  her  home, 
new  hfe  and  the  refreshment  of  new  life  seemed  to  enter  with 
her,  and  there  was  nothmg  which  did  not  ai-range  itself  and 
become  brighter  under  the  influence  of  her  enlightening,  in- 
vigorating, and  cheerful  disposition. 

But  we  have  occupied  ourselves  long  enough  with  "Hertha  8 
part ; "  we  must  also  look  a  little  after  the  others  Avho  have  a 
part  m  our  history,  as  leaves  and  buds  in  the  life  of  a  plant. 
As  on  a  fine  dijy  one  goes  out  to  make  visits  "^o  one's  friends 
and  acquaint^nr^es,  to  ask  how  they  all  are,  and  have  a  few 
moments'  friendly  chat  with  them  about  health  and  sickness, 
about  marriages  and  deaths,  about  this  and  that  in  the  circle 
in  which  we  live,  so  will  w^e  now  go  out  and  make  among  our 
old  acquaintance  in  Kungskoping  a  few — 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  205 


SHORT  VISITS. 

No,  ]. 

PRorEssoR  Methodius  sits  at  Ms  writing-table  surrotmded 
by  books  and  spots  of  ink,  hard  at  work  to  weld  together  by 
the  necessity  and  power  of  axioms  the  links  in  the  chain  of 
the  world's  thoughts  and  transactions.  In  this  manner,  and 
*'  beginning  at  the  begiiming,"  he  will  axiomatically  and  in- 
coutrovertibly  make  it  apparent  how  and  by  what  means  the 
whole  human  race  may  be  improved  and  rendered  happier. 
"Everything,"  says  the  professor,  "depends  upon  the  per- 
fection of  the  system,  and  on  the  most  accurate  adherence  to 
the  method,  and  on  not  passing  over  one  single  item."  But 
the  professor  had  not  yet  got  his  system  into  a  proper  work- 
ing state,  the  screw  did  not  yet  rightly  hold,  nor  the  cranks 
move,  as  he  was  accustomed  to  say,  but,  nevertheless,  he  sees 
the  moment  approaching  nearer  and  nearer,  and  now,  as  a 
beginning,  the  first  sheet  of  "  The  History  of  the  Creation  of 
the  Earth  and  of  the  Human-race,  together  with  theii-  De- 
velopment, ancient,  present,  and  future,"  is  going  to  press. 
With  secret  pride  and  authorly  joy  the  Professor  writes  and 
re-writes,  endeavoring  to  concoct  in  the  best  and  most  com- 
prehensive manner  the  grand  title  of  his  work — 

"The  History  of  the  Creation,  and  Development  of  the 
Earth  and  the  Human-race,  past,  present,  and  to  come." 

On  the  other  side  of  the  room  sits  Mimmi  Svanberg,  and 
writes — 

"My  Deak  Gustap: 

"  It  is  a  fact  that  I  am  the  best  sister  in  the  world, 
because  I  have  just  now  said  No  to  five  invitations,  and 


206  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

neglected  at  least  twenty-seven  commissions  for  no  othi^ 
reason  thau  to  sit  down,  according  to  your  gracious  com- 
mands, and  amuse  you  with  the  gossip  of  our  good  town, 
which  you  contemptuously  and  high-treasonahly  call,  instead 
of  Kungskoping,  '  Tattle-koping.'  But  that  is  too  bad  of 
you. 

"  First,  you  wish  to  know  '  how  papa  and  I  find  ourselves.' 
Thanks  for  the  inquiry.  Papa  is  just  now  sending  to  press  the 
first  sheet  of  his  great  work,  the  long  title  of  which  I  can 
never  remember.  He — that  is  to  say  the  author — is  happy 
over  this  first  sheet,  and,  as  usual,  good  and  gentle  as  an 
angel.  I  have  a  whole  swarm  of  crotchets  in  my  brain,  and, 
among  the  rest,  have  to  discover  how  I  am  to  get  a  dress  for 
Aunt  Marianne,  neither  too  coarse  nor  yet  too  fine ;  neither 
too  homely  nor  yet  too  grand ;  neither  too  old  nor  yet  too 
young ;  neither  too  grave  nor  yet  too  gay ;  neither  too  cool 
nor  yet  too  hot ;  neither  checked  nor  striped,  and  not  too 
dear ;  and  not  too, — I  don't  know  what,  but  becoming  and 
just  what  it  ought  to  be.  That  is  easy  and  amusing,  don't 
you  think  so  ?  But  adieu  now  to  crotchets,  and  let  me  have 
a  chat  "s\dth  you  about  all  your  '  inclinations  and  aversions '  in 
Kungskoping.  First,  of  the  Corsair  of  Kungskoping,  as  you 
styled  the  Honorable  Mrs.  Tupplander,  because  it  is  probable 
that  I  shall  shortly  come  into  feud  with  her,  however  unwil- 
ling I  myself  may  be  to  do  so.  But  I  cannot  calmly  see  poor 
Amelia  Hard  trodden  under-foot  and  ill-used  for  a  by-gone 
error,  which  she  is  endeavoring  to  retrieve  with  all  her  power, 
and  which  she  is  better  able  to  do  than  most  in  her  circum- 
stances. And  if  you  were  here  I  know  I  should  have  a  cham- 
pion in  the  fight,  of  which  I  will  now  say  no  more.  Mrs. 
Tupplander  has  been  for  some  time  in  a  great  state  of  vigi- 
lance, going  in  and  going  out  of  houses,  large  and  small,  and 
her  reticule  is  read}  to  burst,  so  cram-full  is  it  of  all  the  news 
fihe  gathers  up,  whether  well-founded  or  otherwise,  and  I  ex- 
pect that  something  uncommon  will  proceed  out  of  it,  at  aL 
events  a  little  piratical  plunder. 

"  And  now  for  your  '  inclinations,'  about  which  all  sorts  of 


THE    FOUR    STRTFRS.  20t 

reports  are  abroad,  and  which  it  Avill  require  your  whole 
strength  of  mind  to  bear  properly, 

"First,  your  '  great  inclination,'  Hertha.  She  seems  strongly 
inclined  to  a  young  man,  whose  doctor  and  support  she  has 
been  ever  since  the  great  fire,  and  it  is  asserted  that  these  two 
will  some  time  become  one,  which  I  heartily  wish  may  be  the 
case,  for  they  are  a  handsome  and  noble  couple.  If  old  Falk 
will  only  not  say  No,  because  he  is  a  young  man  without 
proj^erty.  In  the  mean  time  Hertha  is  become  very  much 
better-looking  and  much  happier  than  she  ever  was  before, 
and — it  is  a  good  thing  that  you  are  away  on  your  own  con- 
cerns m  Stockholm. 

"  Your  '  httle  incHnation,'  Alina  Dufva.  Dear  brother,  take 
care  of  yourself;  there  is  an  eagle  which  is  hovering  over  that 
little  dove,  and  looks  as  if  he  wished  to  carry  her  off  to  his 
nest.  And  it  seems  as  if  Mrs.  Uggla  would  soon  not  have 
more  than  four  Miss  Dufras  to  sorrow  for  and  sigh  over. 

"  Your  '  old  inclination,'  Ingeborg  Uggla — I  prepare  you, 
my  brother,  for  the  fact,  that  she,  perhaps,  may  not  wait  till 
you  come  and  bow  before  her.  Our  estimable  Dr.  Hader- 
mann  may,  perhaps,  stand  in  your  way.  I  fancy  that  he  is 
likely  to  do  so.  The  other  day  at  a  party  where  we  were 
both  of  us  tolerably  dull,  he  seated  himself  just  opposite  to 
me,  and  began  in  this  strain — 

"  '  Is  not  Ingeborg  Uggla  very  much  changed  of  late  ?' 

" '  How  do  you  mean,  doctor  ?' 

"  '  Well,  she  is  now  so  kind  and  active  for  others ;  does  not 
sit  always  prick,  pricking  over  her  needlework,  sewing  at  her 
dress  or  her  finery,  as  she  used  to  be  always  doing — she 
dresses  herself  simply,  and  is  not  always  going  out  as  former- 
ly ;  she  is  not  always  at  parties,  is  not  party-sick,  as  I  call  it, 
but  is  beginning  to  be  quiet,  frugal,  and  comfortable.' 

"  '  Do  you  know,'  said  I,  '  that  if  many  gii'ls  are  party-sick, 
it  is  because  their  homes  are  dull  and  joyless  ?  and  that  I  think 
is  the  case  with  Ingeborg.  The  mother  is  '  pleasure-sick,'  and 
*  marriage-sick,'  on  her  daughter's  behalf,  and  makes  her  life 
wretched.     But  if  Ingeborg  employed  herself  a  good  deal  for 


208  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

her  toilet,  and  made  up  her  finery  for  herself,  it  was  to  save 
her  money  for  other  purposes,  because  she  does  a  good  deal 
of  good  silently,  and  has  always  done  so,  as  long  as  I  have 
known  her.' 

"  '  Is  it  possible  ?'  said  the  doctor,  who  seemed  both  asto- 
nished and  afiected.  '  I  thought,'  continued  he,  '  that  she  was 
one  of  those  fine  ladies  who  turned  up  their  noses  at  poor 
folks,  and  at  simple  creditable  folks.' 

"  '  Then  you  deceive  yourself^'  said  I ;  '  Ingeborg  is  really  a 
fine  lady,  but  she  is  at  the  same  time  a  noble-minded  creature ; 
she  has  a  warm  heart  for  the  sufieriug,  and  values  nothing  so 
highly  as  a  person  of  real  worth,  as  for  instance — yourself!' 

"  '  Me !'  said  the  doctor,  and  became  quite  crunson  ;  '  it  is 
not  possible !' 

"  I  laughed  and  said,  '  Ask  her,  and  then  you  will  hear !' 
I  then  related  to  liini  several  beautiful  traits  which  I  knew 
about  Ingeborg.  Our  good  doctor  listened  attentively  and 
looked  quite  tender-hearted,  but  merely  said :  '  How  much  one 
may  be  mistaken !' 

"  And  now  I  fancy  that  these  two  people,  who  hitherto  out 
of  pure  dread  have  not  ventured  to  approach  each  other,  will 
come  to — understand  each  other  better.  You  understand  me. 
Ingeborg  has,  I  know,  long  cherished  a  sentiment  for  Dr.  He- 
dermann,  which  she  thought  was  unparticipated  by  him,  and 
that  made  her  timid  and  shy  ui  his  presence.  I  hope  that  you 
can  bear  this  discovery  with  strength  of  mind.  But,  my  poor 
brother,  what  will  you  say  when  I  now  proceed  to  tell  you 
about  your  '  fat  inclination.'  Set  a  bottle  of  water  by  your 
side,  before  you  read  what  follows. 

"  As  you  know,  I  like  to  mix  in  all  our  six  or  seven  social 
circles  and  coteries  of  the  town,  and  therefore  I  was  a  short 
time  ago  at  one  of  the  third  or  fourth  rank  subscription-balls, 
which  you  are  very  well  acquainted  with.  Aldennan-cheese- 
monger  Jonsson's  wife  and  daughters,  Adelgunda  and  Con- 
cordia, were  there, — all  three  as  fair,  fat,  and  good-temj^ered 
as  could  be  wished  for,  in  the  race,  who  you  know  make  much 
account  of  being  in  good  condition.     I  determined,  as  usual, 


THE   FOLTv   sisT!a;s.  209 

to  have  a  little  conversation  with  Mrs.  Jonssoii,  who  amuses 
ir»e  greatly,  and  accordingly  seated  myself  beside  her  dm-ing 
the  dancing  and  said — 

" '  They  really  are  very  capital  these  balls,  and  the  price  is 
so  reasonable.' 

" '  I  don't  exactly  think  so,'  said  Mrs.  Jonsson  blmitly, 
'  every  ball  costs  twelve  skil lings,  and  in  the  course  of  the 
evening  there  are  hardly  more  than  four  dances,  that  is  three 
skillings  a  dance.  That  is  dear  enough,  I  think.  And  how 
people  tear  about  in  the  waltz ;  enough  to  work  all  the  flesh 
off  their  bones  !  I  am  sure  that  Adelgunda  will  be  quite  thin 
with  all  that  tearing  about.' 

"  When  the  waltz  was  over,  Mrs.  Jonsson  called  Adelgunda 
to  her  and  they  both  went  into  the  inner  room.  I  accompa- 
nied them,  being  a  Uttle  curious,  and  saw  the  tender  mother 
take  a  large  sausage  sand^vicll  out  of  her  bag,  which  Adelgun- 
da must  eat  standing. 

"  '  You  wish,'  said  I  to  Mrs,  Jonsson,  '  to  coiuiteract  the 
effect  of  the  violent  exertion  of  the  M'altz.' 

"  '  Yes,  that  is  just  it,'  said  she  seriously ;  '  it  is  not,  you 
may  believe  me,  so  easy  to  get  uj)  again  the  flesh  which  peo- 
ple dance  off  then*  bones  ;  and  esjiecially  when  they  are  be- 
trothed,— girls  always  get  thin  then.' 

" '  Betrothed  !'  exclaimed  I.     '  Is  Adelgunda  betrothed  ?' 

" '  Yes,  believe  me,  that  she  is.  Did  not  Mamsell  know  ? 
Yes,  she  is  just  betrothed  to  Lieutenant  Krongranat.  So 
now  she  will  have  a  little  title  of  her  o^na ;  ay,  ay,  I  thank 
you!' 

"  I  was  surprised,  and  offered  my  congratulations,  and  look- 
ea  at  Adelgunda,  who  stood  there  eating  her  sausage  sand- 
Avich,  and  looked  calm,  and  fat,  and  fair,  and  actually  quite 
splendid. 

"  '  Well,  that  is  excellent,'  said  I ;  '  but  where  then  is  the 
bridegroom?' 

"  'He  is  now  gone  to  Stockholm,  to  buy  a  few  things,'  re- 
\  lied  Mrs.  Jonsson,  mth  a  glance  full  of  meaning,  half  at  m© 
&ad  half  at  Adelgunda. 
13 


210  THE    FOUR    SISTERS. 

"'  Yes,  yes,  I  understand,'  said  I;  'I  should  not  wonder  ;( 
Mamsell  Adelgunda  grew  a  little  thinner  ;  it  must  make  her  u 
little  uneasy  to  know  that  her  bridegroom  is  such  a  long  way 
off  as  Stockholm.' 

"  '  Oh,  there's  no  danger,'  said  Adelgunda,  with  impertur- 
bable  calmness. 

"  '  Think  if  he  should  not  come  back !' 

" '  Oh,  there's  no  danger  ;  he'll  come  back  again  safe 
enough,'  said  Adelgunda, 

"  '  And  when  is  the  wedding  to  be,  if  I  may  ask  ?' 

"  '  At  Martlemass,'  replied  Mrs.  Jonsson  ;  '  I  think  my  geese 
will  be  fattened  by  that  time.  We  shall  have  a  large  wed- 
dmg,  because  all  the  relations  must  be  invited,  and  I  don't 
beheve  I  shall  be  able  to  sit  with  my  hands  crossed  till  it's 
over.  And  no  help  can  I  have  from  Adelgunda,  for  I  will  not 
let  her  be  fagging  about  and  running  the  flesh  oft'  her  bones. 
No,  I  would  rather  be  worried  to  death  myself;  that  is  the 
lot  of  mothers  and  the  way  of  the  world.' 

"  You  see  now,  my  brother,  '  the  way  of  the  world,'  as  far 
as  your  inchnatious  in  Kungskoping  are  concerned,  and  I  can 
see  from  this  distance  what  an  efiect  it  produces  on  you ;  I  see 
how  you  go  to  the  stove  and  light — your  cigar,  and  sit  down 
on  the  sofa  to  smoke  it. 

"  For  punishment  thereof  you  shall  now  hear  a  little  about 
our  society's  affairs,  our  family-union.  It  succeeds  better  than 
you,  Mrs.  Uggla,  and  Co.  predicted ;  nay,  indeed,  so  well  that 
it  is  a  pleasure  to  behold,  and  these  new  family-connexions 
seem  expressly  calculated  to  make  people  pleasantly  acquaint- 
ed with  one  another,  and  to  lead  to  alliances  of  friendship,  and 
even  to  some  of  a  warmer  land,  as  I  have  just  related.  And 
then  the  visits  to  the  houses  of  the  poor,  and  the  sympathy 
excited  for  their  circumstances;  I  tell  you,  brother,  all  thig 
produces  more  good  than  you  can  believe ;  nay,  the  simple 
fact  of  a  poor  mother  or  father  being  able  to  pour  out  their 
troubles,  to  speak  of  their  prospects  and  wishes  for  their  chil- 
dren, it  is  like  admitting  fresh  air  into  the  breasts  and  the 
dwellings  of  those  who  sit  in  darkness.      Industry,  comforti 


THE  foi:r  sisters.  211 

and  hope  increase  under  the  friendly  countenance  of  thoso 
who  are  better  off  in  hfe.  And  one  can  sympatliise  and  help 
in  many  ways  without  giving  money.  The  Countess  P.  is 
unceasingly  active  and  kind.  It  is  a  delight  to  accompany 
her  on  her  visits  to  her  district.  The  Covmt  also  is  excellent 
both  in  word  and  deed.  Our  good  pastor's  mfe  busies  her- 
self about  the  children  and  the  infant-school  without  intermis- 
sion, (she  is  especially  the  mother  of  the  motherless,)  and 
labors  to  obtam  for  the  school  a  better  situation  than  it  now 
rejoices  in.  A  number  of  poor  mothers  come  daily  to  beg 
that  their  children  may  be  there  taken  charge  of  during  the 
day,  that  they  may  be  at  liberty  to  go  out  and  work  for  them. 
I  have  been  to-day  with  the  pastor's  wife  to  visit  the  school- 
room into  which  the  children  were  received  after  the  great 
fire.  There  was  a  terrific  crowd,  but  all  was  neat  and  orderly. 
A  couple  of  loquacious  children  related  to  us  the  fate  of  the 
school  after  the  fire  in  the  following  manner  : 

"  '  Just  when  the  mistress  had  ended  the  morning  prayer ; 
that  was  on  Monday,  wasn't  it? — Ay,  it  was;  for  you  see, 
Thursday  was  the  fire,  and  on  Friday  everybody's  heads  were 
turned,  and  Saturday  was  a  hoUday ;  so  first  on  Monday  the 
children  came  here  again,  then  the  gentleman  came  m — he 
that  manages  for  the  house.  And  he  said,  the  mistress  and 
we  all  must  get  ready  to  pack  off  that  very  moment,  because 
the  building  must  begin  in  a  jiffey,  spite  of  bm-nt-out  folks. 
•And  then  there  was  a  pretty  halloo-baloo,  as  you  may  believe ; 
and  we  got  ready  to  start.  But  just  as  we  were  going,  the 
lady  talked  to  the  works-director  right  well,  and  said  it  wasn't 
a  bit  better  than  if  we'd  been  burnt  out  of  house  and  homo 
altogether.  And  then  the  director  was  so  good  as  to  pack  us 
all  in  here  altogether,  and  in  that  way  we  are  again  a  school, 
you  see.  But  you  see  the  worst  of  all  is,  that  they  are  such 
noisy  folks  that  live  in  the  other  room,  they  are  burnt-out 
folks,  such  a  lot  of  them  !  Sometimes  we  are  almost  frightened 
(»at  of  our  little  lives,  they  are  so  wicked,  and  make  such  a 
dm ;  all  the  more  since  the  mistress  has  fallen  sick,  with  all  the 
hurry  and  worry  ;  and  if  it  had  not  been  for  Mother  Amalia, 


212  THE    FOUR    SISTERS. 

we  could  not  have  got  tlirough  with  our  lives.  But  she  is 
such  a  rare  one,  she  is  !  and  so  clever,  and  teaches  us  so  capi- 
tal !  so — it's  regularly  jolly,  now  ! ' 

"  It  was  during  dinner-time  that  we  had  this  talk  with  the 
child.     But  do  you  know  who  that  '  Mother  Amaha '  was  who 
went  among  the  children  and  gave  them  their  food,  assembled 
*,]iem  to  prayers  and  reading  and  singing,  and  instructed  them 
with  a  firmness  and  a  motherly  affection  at  the  same  time, 
which  made  the  children  obey  her  as  nature  obeys  our  Lord  ? 
This  '  Mother  Amaha,'  whom  the  children  praised  so  much, 
yes,  she  is  no  other  than  that  same  Amaha  Hard  whom  you 
can  remember  very  well  m  her  gay  days,  and  whose  later  sor- 
rowful history  you  also  know.     The  infant-school  had  been 
removed,  or  rather  crammed  into  a  room  in  the  house  where 
she  lived,  and  she  had  taken  the  sick  school-mistress  into  one  of 
her  two  rooms,  and  nursed  her  whilst  she  was  unable  to  perform 
her  duties  in  the  school.     Beside  the  cradle  of  her  httle  boy 
now  sits  a  little  lame  girl  of  nine  years  old,  of  cheerful  disposi- 
tion, with  bright  eyes  and  the  most  lovely  voice,  so  that  it  is  a 
pleasure  to  hear  her  sing.     Amalia  teaches  her  new  songs, 
which  she  allows  her  to  sing  with  the  school  cliildren,     Amalia 
always  had  a  good  heart,  even  in  her  giddy,  youthful  days,  and 
now  she  shows  it,  together  with  abihties,  and  a  desire  to  do 
good,  which  we  had  never  before  given  her  credit  for.     Love 
for  her  child  seems  to  have  ennobled  her,  and  developed  in 
her  a  maternal  sentiment  even  for  other  children.     If  Mrs.  N. 
should  not  recover,  as  seems  probable,  because  she  suffers  from 
chronic  affection  of  the  chest,  Amalia   woiild   probably  be 
engaged  as  mistress  of  the  school,  if  there  were  not  an  if^  and 
especially   if  Mrs.  Tupplander   were  not  in   the   way.     The 
world  is  very  mijust  which  makes  such  a  mighty  sin  of  one 
moment's  false  step,  and  pays  so  little  regard  to  years  of  fidel- 
ity, fulfilment  of  duty,  self-sacrificing  love,  industry,  and  to  the 
unquestionable  earnestness  and  power  of  a  wish  to  do  right, 
A.malia  seems  now  as  if  born  anew,  and  quite  happy  m  her 
ti'esh  occupation.     If  one  could  but  see  the  end  of  it.     I  foresee 
a  regular  struggle  with  our  Corsair.     The  pastor's  wife  is  not 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  213 

nerself  quite  satisfied  with  tlie  affair.     But  I  hope  that  our 
Lord  will  help  us — I  mean  AmaUa,  Hertha,  and  myself. 

"  Apropos  of  myself;  I  am  in  a  fair  way  of  losing  my  heart. 
Can  you  guess  to  whom  ?  Why,  to  no  other  than  to  your 
friend  and  the  sworn  enemy  of  the  ladies' -society,  the  Protocol 
Secretary — N.  B.  He  is  so  good  to  our  poor  folks !  and  m 
that  case  he  may  be  as  angry  as  he  likes  with  ladies'-socie- 
ties. 

"  Towards  me  he  is  particularly  gracious  (although  I  turn 
to  him  in  all  sorts  of  i^arish  business),  the  reason  of  which  I 
opine  to  be,  that  I  very  often  fool  him  into  laughing.  He 
does  everything  that  I  ask  of  him.  I  have  often  remarked,  as  a 
general  rule,  that  what  people  will  not  do  for  the  sake  of  neces- 
sity, they  win  often  do  either  for  the  sake  of  a  joke  or  a  good 
laugh.  And  in  this  way  your  friend  N.  B.  and  I  have  become 
very  good  friends.  But  you  know  what  I  have  said,  if  I 
should  ever  meet  with  a  wealthy  man — for  I  will  not  be  poor 
if  I  can  help  it,  least  of  all  as  a  marx-ied  woman — ready  to  help 
and  do  good — (in  a  rational  sort  of  Avay,  of  course),  Avhom  I 
can  like,  and  who  wiU  have  me — and  papa  along  with  me,  then 
— ^I  wiU  not  promise  for  what  may  happen ! 

"  Now  you  laugh  at  me,  and  I  do  so  too,  and  go  and  get 
ready  papa's  supper,  and  look  after  seventeen  other  things, 

"  But  remain  for  ever,  and  with  my  whole  heart, 
"  Your  devoted  sister, 

"  MiMin  S." 

No.  2. 

Mrs.  Uggla  sits  in  her  arm-chair  and  reads  the  newspaper, 
sipping  every  now  and  then  her  afternoon  coffee.  Now  she 
lays  down  the  newspaper,  takes  off  her  spectacles,  raises  her- 
self a  little  in  her  chair,  and  sighing  with  a  secret  satisfaction, 
says: 

*'  Such  a  number  of  old  ladies  dead !  and  three  of  them  my 
good  friends ! — It  is  a  fact  though,  that  the  newspapers  are 
very  interesting.      One  learns  so  much  from  them.     What, 


214  THE  FOUil   SISTERS. 

is  that  you  again,  dear  Ingeborg?  Cannot  I  have  any 
peace  ?  " 

"Not  just  now,  mamma  dear — impossible!  I  must  have 
fifty  little  children's  blouses  cut  out  by  the  day  after  to-morrow ; 
I  have  not  half  done  them,  and  if  mamma  Tvill  not  help  me  I 
shall  get  into  disgrace  in  my  family,  and  be  scolded  by  Dr. 
Hedermann.  I  must  now  go  with  Hertha  to  visit  our  sick 
outside  the  town,  and  if,  dear  mamma,  you  would  be  so  good 
and  go  on  with  the  cutting-out  while  I  am  away,  I  shall  then 
get  through  my  undertaking  with  credit;  otherwise  I  shall 
not." 

"  Well,  in  that  case  I  suppose  I  must,"  sighed  Mrs.  Uggla, 
rising  from  her  chair  ;  "  but  it  is  very  wretched  with  all  these 
schemes,  which  only  give  people  trouble  !  Now,  where  have 
you  put  the  scissors  and  stuff?  It  is  quite  certain  that  I 
ought  to  have  the  title  of  mother  in  the  cutting-out  family !" 

And  so  sighing,  Mrs.  Uggla  began  her  work,  half-smUing 
the  while  at  Ingeborg,  who  kissed  the  hand  in  which  she 
placed  the  large  pair  of  scissors,  and  said  cheerfully  as  she 
went  out : 

"  Only  don't  be  too  quick,  mamma  dear ;  leave  a  little  for 
me  to  do !  " 

Ingeborg  went,  and  Mrs.  Uggla  began  her  work  in  good 
earnest.  Mrs.  Uggla  was  really  both  more  occupied  and  less 
out  of  spirits  than  she  used  to  be.  Ingeborg  knew  what  por- 
tion of  the  business  which  occupied  the  attention  of  the  family- 
groups  was  calculated  to  caU  forth  her  mother's  interest  and 
sympathy,  and  this  falling,  as  it  were,  into  her  hands,  had 
given  a  new  turn  to  her  thoughts  and  conversation.  The 
human-being — ^let  naturaUsts  say  what  they  like  on  the  sub- 
ject— is  a  ruminant  animal.  He  chews  the  cud  of  feelings  and 
thoughts,  the  bitter  as  well  as  the  sweet,  when  he  has  time 
for  it. 

"  The  human  heart,"  says  Luther,  "  is  like  a  pair  of  mill- 
Btones.  If  good  corn  is  placed  between  them,  they  grind  it 
into  good  meal.  But  if  they  have  no  corn  to  grind,  they 
grind  away  themselves." 


THE   FOUE  SISTERS.  215 

Witli  this  true  observation  we  will  proceed  to  our  next 
Tisit. 

No.  3. 

Two  young  laoies  are  walking  together  on  the  road  that 
fine  evening,  towards  the  end  of  summer.  We  recognise 
Hertha  and  Ingeborg,  Their  steps  are  directed  towards  the 
town.  The  evening  sky  glows  with  a  warm  but  tender  light ; 
the  air  is  calm,  the  crickets  chirp  in  the  grass.  Ligeborg's 
countenance,  brightened  by  the  evening  flush,  and  animated 
by  her  walk,  is  very  unlike  what  it  appeared  in  the  ball-room 
a  few  months  ago.  She  now  looks  well,  healthy,  and  cheerful. 
The  two  young  friends  had  walked  in  silence  for  some  time, 
when  Ingeborg  said : 

"  People  say  so  much  about  a  beneficent  activity  for  our 
distressed  fellow-creatures  being  beautiful,  but  they  never 
speak  of  the  joy  it  gives,  nor  of  its  beneficent,  elevated 
influence  upon  those  who  practise  it.  And  yet  it  seems  to 
me  that  this  is  so  great,  that  it  is  hke  the  reward  of  heaven 
to  those  who  labor  in  its  service.  I  confess,  that  for  many 
years  I  have  not  felt  so  well  and  so  cheerfiil  in  mind,  as  I 
have  done  during  these  last  months,  when  I  have  been  obliged 
to  be  actively  employed  for  our  society.  Ah !  it  is  such  a 
good  thing  to  be  able  to  forget  one's  own  poor  I,  and  to 
think  about  other  people,  and  to  work  for  them ;  and  when 
one  feels  that  one  can  be  of  some  little  use,  can  do  some  little 
good  by  one's  life  and  one's  work,  it  elevates  the  mind. 
Occupation  during  the  day ;  walks  in  the  fresh  air,  on  one's 
visits  to  the  dwellings  of  the  poor,  waft  away  many  a  germ  of 
disease,  both  of  mind  and  body.  Why,  Hertha,  should  the 
lives  of  so  many  of  us  be  like  a  stagnant  mere,  when  we 
have  both  time  and  strength  to  give,  and  when  there  is  so 
much,  and  such  countless  numbers  of  people  who  need 
them  ?" 

"I  have  often  myself  asked  that  question,  Ingeborg,»» 
replied  Hertha,  "  but  have  not  yet  found  an  answer.     A  great 


216  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

deal  of  fault  lies  in  the  way  in  which  society  looks  at  the  pro- 
blem  of  our  life,  as  well  as  in  our  education  and  position  in 
society.  Much  also  lies  in  our  own  apathy,  or,  more  properly 
spealdng,  selfishness.  A  greal  deal  of  egotism  prevails  in  our 
sex ;  and  the  feminine  J  is  only  too  much  inclined  to  see  the 
whole  world  in  the  little,  narrow  circle  which  it  calls  its  own. 
Many,  too,  there  are  who  wish  to  do  otherwise,  but  dare  not. 
In  the  mean  time  the  benevolent  societies,  which  are  now 
being  established  in  all  Christian  countries,  are  signs  of  an 
extended  horizon,  and  a  higher  and  more  comprehensive  Hfe. 
The  heart  begins  to  expand  its  world.  This  is  good,  and  the 
well-inclined  obtain  therefi'om  encouragement  and  guidance. 
But  I  confess  that  the  dii'ection  into  which  it  principally 
extends  itself  is  not  sufficient  for  me.  These  works  of  benevo- 
lence, as  they  are  called,  this  activity  for  the  outwardly  poor — 
does  not  satisfy  my  soul,  nor  the  requirement  of  my  spirit.  I 
desire  an  activity  for  the  mind,  a  ser^'ice  in  the  service  of  the 
spirit.  And — no  need  that  it  should  be  less  6^oc7's-service 
than  laboring  for  the  hungry  and  the  naked !" 

"  Ah,  no,"  said  Ingeborg,  "  the  very  contrary  ;  the  bitterest 
poverty  is  that  of  the  spirit ;  the  most  tormenting  hunger  is 
that  of  the  soul.  But  not  many  are  able  to  satisfy  it.  You 
who  are  one  of  the  unusual  and  strong  souls,  you  may  do  it, 
and  many,  many  will  bless  you  for  that  reason.  We  all  of  us 
need  more  fi-eedom  and  a  wider  future  than  we  possess  for 
the  powers  which  God  has  given  us.  But  not  many  of  us 
feel  the  thirst  for  knowledge  and  light  which  you  speak  of. 
The  greater  number  of  women,  it  seems  to  me,  are  created  to 
find  their  most  beautiful  happiness  as  wives  and  as  mothers ; 
they  do  not  commonly  covet  anything  higher!" 

"  But  this  is  a  defect,  Ingeborg,  and  a  contractedness  of 
mind  in  them  who,  being  these,  aim  at  nothing  higher  than 
being  merely  happy.  And  that  which  beyond  everything 
else  appears  to  me  to  be  the  fault  of  our  sex,  is  2:)recisely  this 
Tuict)nsciousness  of  its  highest  vocation.  Therefore  so  many 
of  them  live,  suflfer,  and  enjoy  as  thoughtless,  aimless  beings, 
ruled   by  circumstances   instead  of  iniling  them ;    requiring 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  21 Y 

everytldng  from  another,  and  living  as  parasites  instead  of 
having  life  and  peace  in  God,  and  living  as  His  witnesses  and 
the  benefactoi-s  of  their  fellows." 

"You  speak  beautiful  and  proud  words,  Hertha!"  said 
Ingeborg,  whilst  tears  filled  her  eyes,  "  and  it  does  me  good 
to  hear  them,  although  they  show  me  how  far  I  am  from  the 
point  of  view  which  they  assume.  And  many,  Hke  myself, 
fettered  by  circumstances,  over  which  they  have  no  control, 
may  be  able  merely  to  raise  themselves,  by  feebly  fluttering 
their  wings,  above  them, — nay,  many  never  can  raise  them- 
selves before  they  have  broken  the  chain  of  human  life." 

"  And  I  too,"  said  Hertha,  smiling  sorroAvfully,  "  am  consi- 
derably weaker  than  my  words.     I  only  say  what  I  wish,  and 

what  we  ought  all  to  be ! " 

"  What  the  devil  are  the  grrls  marching  along  for  ?"  soimd- 
ed  a  harsh  voice  behind  them,  and  at  the  same  time  some  one 
was  heard  advancing  with  hasty  steps.  They  turned  round 
and  saw  Dr.  Hedermann,  who  as  soon  as  he  had  reached  them 
took  off  his  hat,  wiped  his  forehead,  and  said : 

"  I  think  you  must  have  wings  at  your  feet.  Here  have  I 
been  on  the  full  trot  after  you  for  the  last  quarter  of  an  horn*, 
all  the  way  from  the  village  yonder,  in  order  to  catch  you. 
^ut  you  ran  away  as  if  you  were  afraid  of  me.  Now  confess 
tnat  you  saw  me  coming,  and  hastened  away  because  you 
thought  that  I  was  going  to  the  cottages  after  you,  and  you 
were  afi-aid  of  being  scolded  by  the  wicked  doctor,  who  is 
always  finding  fault  ^-ith  people,  and  especially  with  ladies 

and  their  goings-on.     Confess !     Was  it  not  so  ? " 

But  the  young  ladies  had  nothing  of  that  kind  to  confess, 
nor  did  they  seem  afraid  of  the  wicked  doctor,  but,  on  the 
contrary,  glad  to  see  him  and  to  have  his  company  the  rest  of 
the  way.  The  three  were  now  soon  in  the  fiill  discussion  of 
their  general  family  affairs,  within  the  society,  and  of  various 
measures  and  proceedings  with  regard  to  the  sanitary  man- 
agement of  the  poor  children.  The  good  doctor  and  Inge- 
borg especially  agreed  on  this  subject,  and  while  the  twilight 
gathered  around  them  and  the  stars  came  forth  in  the  heavens, 


218  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

thoughts  also  and  plans  were  suggested  for  the  destitute  little 
ones  which  would  brighten  their  dim  future. 

Hertha  took  leave  of  her  friends  at  her  own  door,  and  the 
doctor  accompanied  Ingeborg  to  her  own  home.  But  the 
couAersation  which  had  hitherto  been  carried  on  so  easily, 
seemed  now  all  at  once  to  be  stayed.  A  certain  melancholy 
silence  overcame  the  doctor,  and  he  answered  nothing  to  an 
attempt  or  two  made  by  Ingeborg  to  renew  the  conversation. 
The  two  became  silent ;  the  doctor  plucked  now  and  then  a 
little  flower  from  the  dewy  grass,  a  blossom  of  fi-agrant  wliite 
clover  or  a  sprig  of  ladies'  bed-straw,  and  thus  they  reached 
the  town  and  Ingeborg's  home. 

Here  the  doctor  paused. 

"  Will  you  not  come  in  and  say  a  word  or  two  to  mamma  ?" 
said  Ingeborg  almost  beseechingly. 

"  Not  this  evening,"  replied  the  doctor,  decidedly,  "  but 
another  time,  when  I  wiU  ask  you.  Miss  Ingeborg,  something. 
But — do  you  like  field  flowers.  Miss  Ingeborg? — simple, 
every-day  flowers  ?" 

"  Better  even  than  garden  flowers." 

"  Indeed !  I  could  not  have  believed  that ;  but  one  makes 
many  mistakes  in  this  world.  "Well,  it  is  pleasant  that  you 
hke  common  flowers ;  see,  here  are  some.     Good  night." 

And  as  the  doctor  gave  Ingeborg  the  Uttle  bouquet,  he 
fixed  upon  her  a  deep,  strangely  questioning  glance,  a  glance 
which  went  like  an  arrow  to  her  heart,  and  awoke  there  a 
feeling  at  once  uneasy  and  delicious.  Never  before  had  he 
looked  at  her  in  that  way. 

Ingeborg  found  her  mother  in  an  unusually  excited  state  of 
mind.     An  imitation  had  arrived  to  a  grand  entertainment  in 

the  neighborhood,    given  by  the  Von  X 's,  he  being  a 

lord  of  the  bedchamber.  "  All  the  elite  of  the  towai  and 
country    would    be    there,"    said  Mrs.  Uggla,  "and   Baron 

P and  Count  S ;  and,  Ingeborg,  you  must  have  a 

new  silk  for  the  occasion." 

"  Now,  mamma !"  said  Ingeborg ;"  now,  when  such  numbers 
are  without  clothes  in  consequence  of  the  fire.     I  don't  feel  as 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  219 

if  I  ought  now  to  think  about  a  new  ball-dress.  Ah,  no !  but 
if  mamma  loves  me,  let  me  rather  have  the  money  which 
it  would  cost,  s»nd  lay  it  out  as  I  like." 

"  But,  dear  I  ngeborg,  it  never  will  do  to  go  to  such  a  ball 
in  your  old  dress,  everybody " 

"  Then  do  not  let  us  go,"  said  Ingeborg. 

"  Not  go  to  the  ball  ?"  said  Mrs.  TJggla  with  horror. 

"  "No,  do  not  let  us  go,"  said  Ingeborg,  with  more  decision 
than  usual ;  "  I  know,  dear  mamma,  that  you  would  go 
merely  for  my  sake,  and  I  would  much  rather  stay  at 
home." 

"  You  might  just  as  well  be  a  nun,  and  go  into  a  convent," 
said  Mrs.  Uggla,  both  angry  and  vexed,  "  as  you  have  made 
up  your  mind  to  be  an  old  maid,  and  hve  a  stupid  unnatural 
life." 

"  Is  my  mother  then  so  tired  of  me  that  she  wishes  to  get 
rid  of  me  d  tout  jyrix  P"  said  Ingeborg ;  "  I  am  very  sorry  that 
you  are  so  tired  of  me,  mamma." 

"  I  am  not,  indeed,  tired  of  you,  my  dear  child,"  said  the 
poor  old  woman,  sighing,  "  but  don't  you  see,  it  is  for  your 
own  best  interest.  I  know  that  my  temper  is  bad,  (ever  since 
your  father  died  it  has  got  worse,)  and  that  I  cannot  make 
your  home  happy,  and  it  is  distressing  to  me  to  see  that  you 
must  wither  away  in  it,  and  lose  your  good  complexion,  and 
have  nervous  headaches,  and  to  hear  people  wonder  that  you 
don't  get  married ;  and  I  know  that  you  might  have  made  a 
good  match  if  you  had  not  been  foolish,  and  if  you,  like  other 
girls,  would  but  take  a  little  trouble  to  please  gentlemen." 

"  Never,  never  again  in  that  way,"  replied  Ingeborg  Tvnth 
unusual  emphasis.  "  If  I  cannot  win  a  good  husband  othei'- 
wise  than  by  my  dress  and  my  dancing,  then  let  me  remain 
for  ever  immarried.  My  /iear  mother,  we  have  hitherto  only 
thought  too  much  about  this  matter.  Let  us  now  endeavor 
not  to  think  of  it  any  more ;  leave  the  whole  calmly  in  our 
Lord's  hand,  and  think  of  something  else ;  for  example,  how 
we  can  make  each  other  happy  in  our  home,  and  serve  God 
with  the  talent  that  he  has  given  to  us.     Tell  me,  mamma,  do 


220  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

you  not  think  that  I  am  looking  more  healthy,  and  that  I  aER 
more  cheerful  than  I  used  to  be  ?" 

'*  Yes,  that  you  certainly  are." 

"  And  the  reason,  dear  mamma,  is  because  I  have  begun  to 
walk  in  another  path  than  that  of  balls  and  suppers,  and  have 
begun  to  labor  for  something  else  than  endeavoring  to  please, 
■which  is  the  hardest  labor  in  the  world,  especially  when 
people  have  passed  their  youthful  years.  Will  you  now, 
mamma,  allow  me  to  continue  in  the  way  which  I  have  begun, 
and  I  then  promise  that  you  may  be  perfectly  easy  and  con- 
tented on  my  account  ?" 

"  You  do  not  understand  it,"  returned  the  mother  mourn- 

fiilly,  "  and  I  never  can  be  easy  and  contented  until Ah, 

you  do  not  know  what  it  is  to  live  a  soUtary  Ufe  on  small 
means.  But  I  know  it,  and  therefore  I  wish  you  not  to  expe- 
rience such  a  lot ;  but  if  you  will  do  so,  then  I  cannot  prevent 
it.  You  may  be  an  old  maid  and  welcome  for  me,  but  it 
would  be  much  better  to  go  into  a  convent,  because  then  there 
would  be  some  credit  in  it." 

And  Mrs.  Uggla  in  great  warmth  went  into  her  bedroom. 

"  Would  to  God  that  we  had  convents  in  our  country !" 
sighed  Ingeborg  silently.  "  How  beautiful  and  great  to  be 
sustained  by  one  common  sanctifying  spirit ;  to  be  elevated  by 
holy  songs ;  to  dedicate  one's  life  in  affectionate  sister-com- 
munion to  a  service  not  of  the  world,  at  peace  with  one's 
conscience  and  with  life.  But  no,"  continued  she,  as  she 
glanced  upwards  to  the  heavens,  bright  with  stars,  "I  will 
not  sigh  after  the  nnpossible,  but  will  ask  what  God's  spirit 
requires  from  me  in  this  place  and  at  the  present  time." 

A  ray,  a  point  of  the  light  and  hfe  which  announces  the 
advent  of  a  new  day,  and  which  even  in  northern  countries 
calls  forth  new  life  and  new  creations,  stirred  the  soul  of 
Ingeborg  with  the  freshness  of  rich  anticipation ;  she  recalled 
to  her  mind  the  evening's  conversation  with  Hertha  and  with 
the  doctor,  and  she  felt  clearly  that  she,  too,  had  a  vocation  in 
the  present  time's  work  of  freedom,  and  a  prospect  towards  a 
new  and  more  beautiful  life. 


THE    FOUR    SISTERS.  221 

A  new  reliance  on  the  fatherly  giiidancc  of  God,  and  an 
aasarance  that  she  had  now  chosen  the  right  path,  the  path 
wnich  He  had  appointed  for  her,  filled  her  soul  with  an  unusual 
joy.  Animated  by  this  feeling,  she  went  into  her  mother's 
room,  embraced  her,  kissed  her,  and  said : 

**  Don't  be  unhappy  about  me,  mamma.  All,  believe  me, 
vn'i  turn  out  right." 

"liie  poor  unhappy  mother  looked  astonished  at  the  bright, 
beaming  countenance  of  her  daughter ;  but  when  Ingeborg 
attempted  to  impart  to  her  the  feelings  and  thoughts  which 
occupied  her  whole  being,  she  said : 

'*  f  ou  are  a  good  girl,  Ingeborg ;  better  than  your  mother. 
You  are  perhaps  right,  but  I  am  one  of  the  old  school.  I 
cannot  follow  you  into  all  your  modern  theories.  We  shall 
see  who  is  right  in  the  long  run.  God  knows  best.  But  you 
must  now  act  as  you  think  right." 

Again  in  her  o-rni  room  Ingeborg  laid  the  little  bouquet  of 
"wild  flowers  on  the  table  by  her  pillow,  and  thought  pleasantly 
of  a  fi-esh  life  of  labor  in  the  service  of  humanity,  and  in  the 
society  of  noble  friends,  and  every  thought  became  Uke  a  fresh 
fragrance  breathing  clover-flower  on  the  green  field  of  life. 
She  would  have  slept  well,  but  for  the  pecuUar  glance  which 
Dr.  Hedermann  gave  her  at  parting,  and — what  could  he 
mean  ?  asked  she  of  herself  The  wicked  doctor  !  it  was  too 
iate  almost  for  him  to  give  her  such  a  glance  now  ! — if  it  had 
been  seven  years  ago  ; — but  now,  now,  was  it  possible  that 

Such   thoughts   and   questionings   prevented   her  from 

sleeping. 

Neither  did '  Mrs.  Uggla  sleep.  With  many  sighs,  she 
thought : 

"  To  lose  such  a  splendid  chance  !  but  she  is  a  simpleton — 
and  those  modem  notions !  She'll  never  be  married !  never 
be  married !     Oh    ho  I" 


222  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 


No.  4. 

Mks.  TuppLAisTDER  IS  in  a  state  of  great  excitement ;  sht» 
throws  her  bag  down  u^^oii  one  chair,  her  cloak  on  another 
her  bonnet  on  a  third,  and  exclaims  : 

"  Miss  Krusbjorn !  Miss  Krusbjorn !  where  can  she  be  ? 
Come,  and  I'll  tell  you  the  news  !  Here's  a  pretty  piece  of 
scandal !  But  I  don't  mean  to  spread  it !  I  don't  mean  to  lay 
a  cushion  under  the  burden.  Such  an  ungrateful  creature  ! 
Did  you  ever  hear  anything  like  it,  Miss  Krusbjorn  ?  Amalia 
Hird  is  come  back  to  the  town  ;  she  has  with  her  a  child,  and 
she  calls  herself  AmaUa  Winter — I  suppose  on  account  of  her 
fxmily — and  Uves  in  the  house  where  the  infant  school  is,  and 
she  now  goes  and  teaches  the  children.  What  do  you  think 
of  that !  Such  a  shameless  proceeding  !  Pretty  instruction 
will  she  give  to  the  children  who  has  an  illegitimate  child  of 
her  own.  And  besides  that,  she  receives,  late  in  the  evening, 
visits  from  a  gentleman,  who,  it  is  supposed,  may  be  the 
father  of  her  child  ;  but  who  he  is  I  cannot  make  out,  though 
I  will  know  before  I've  done.  Is  not  that  a  pretty  tale  ?  And 
our  pastor's  wife  and  Mimmi  Svanberg  can  allow  such 
things !  But  you  see  whether  Hertha  has  not  had  somt* 
underhand  deahngs  with  them,  on  purpose  to  get  a  mainte 
nance  for  her  cousin.  For  they  are  cousins,  Amalia  Hard  an<" 
she  !  But  if  I  have  any  weight  with  the  Directors  of  the 
school,  there  shall  soon  be  an  end  to  such  goings  on.  Is  thei'e 
nobody  to  be  found  of  a  creditable  name  and  of  good 
conduct,  who  can  undertake  the  managemen*t  of  the  inflmt 
school  during  the  illness  of  the  mistress  ?  I  know  of  a 
certainty  there  is.  And  such  a  one,  and  no  other,  shall  have 
that  place  as'  sure  as  my  name  is  Karin  Tupplander.  But 
now  there  is  a  regular  intrigue  going  on  in  the  town.  And  il 
comes  of  that  and  nothing  else,  that  the  engagement  between 
Mr.  "von  Tackjern  and  Eva  Dufva  is  at  an  end — positively  at 
an  end !  The  girl  has  heard  some  gossip  about  some  dispute 
or  other  during  the  fire — all  stupid  talk ;  and  so  she  has 


THE    rOIJK    SISTEUS.  223 

begged  and  prayea  of  iior  parents  to  consent  to  her  breaking 
off  her  engagement.  Now  she  is  trying  to  become  quite 
learned,  and  her  parents  are  afraid  of  her  becoming  a  blue- 
stocking, and  therefore  they  intend  to  take  her  abroad  for  a 
time.  But  if  one  betrothal  is  at  an  end,  there  are  no  less 
tlian  five  others  which  are  in  progress!  Young  people  are 
thrown  so  much  together  by  these  society-famiUes,  that  it  is 
really  frightf  1,  Miss  Krusbjorn !  In  my  time  people  did  not 
so  easily  and  freely  get  acquainted,  and  for  that  very  reason 
modesty  and  good  morals  prevailed.  My  late  husband.  Miss 
Krusbjorn,  never  once  gave  me  a  kiss  even  during  our  betroth- 
al, but  only  tickled  my  elbow.  And  therefore  he  had  respect 
for  me  all  his  days.  People  did  not  formerly  betrothe  them- 
selves so  hastUy,  nor  make  such  a  merriment  of  it  as  they  do 
now.  A  girl  turned  her  tongue  seven  times  in  her  mouth 
before  she  said  Yes !  She  sate  then  at  her  sewing  from 
morning  till  night,  and  danced  minuets  at  balls.  She  did  not 
leap  and  tear  about  in  the  waltz  as  she  does  now,  Miss 
Krusbjorn.  But,  other  times  other  manners !  Now  there 
are  no  less  than  two  of  the  Duf^as,  who  it  is  said  are  to  be 
married  to  the  two  brothers  Orn  ;  and  Hertha  Falk,  also  ; 
but  she  ought  to  be  actually  betrothed  with  Lieutenant 
Nordin,  because  she  has  been  his  sick  nurse  all  the  summer. 
At  least  it  is  not  becoming  for  people  to  have  such  familiar 
intercourse  if  they  are  not  engaged  to  each  other.  And  that 
I  shall  let  my  dear  Hertha  understand  ;  and  then  I  shall  get 
to  know  how  it  stands  with  the  betrothal.  Well,  well,  papa 
Falk  will  have  a  word  or  two  to  say  on  that  matter.  But 
now  I  must  above  all  things  make  out  who  is  the  gentleman 
Avho  goes  of  an  evening  to  Amalia  Hard.  He  was  with  her 
twice  last  week. 

"  Xow  listen  to  me,  Miss  Krusbjorn  ;  I  have  promised  to 
have  a  coffee  party  on  Sunday  afternoon.  One  must  see 
one's  friends  sometimes,  and  prepare  for  what  one  has  to  do ; 
and  one  can  always  make  out  such  a  quantity  of  puzzling 
things  when  people  are  thus  brought  confidentially  together. 
Let  us  think   how  many    biscuits   and  tea-cakes  we   shall 


224  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

"equire  for  about  twenty-five  or  thirty  persons.  Things  are 
dreadiiilly  dear,  Miss  Krusbjorn,  but  still  one  must  see  one's 
friends  some  time !" 


After  this  visit  on  the  outskirts  of  life,  we  will  return  to  it* 
innermost ;  we  will  talk  about 


THE  FOUR  SISTERS.  225 


LOVE. 

^miracle  of  ear»h  and  heaven, 

'fhou  living  breath  of  happiness, 

Fresh  breeze  of  the  divinest  bliss 

To  life's  woe-stricken  deserts  given. 

Thou  heart  that  throbbest  through  creation, 

Of  gods  and  men,  thou  consolation. — Tegnkr 

But  we  mean  by  this  high  and  glorious  love  which  really 
deserves  to  be  called 

The  fresh  breeze  of  divinest  bliss 
To  life's  -woe-stricken  deserts  given. 

"We  are  not  speaking  of  its  many  imitations,  or  of  that 
dwarfish  race  to  which  people  in  a  mistake  give  the  name  of 
loves,  and  who  fly  abont  shooting  their  arrows  at  random ; 
butterflies  which  flutter  from  flower  to  flower ;  "  Loke's 
fire,"  which  kindles  shavings,  bums  up  quickly  and  soon  goes 
out.  The  "  house-warming"  of  which  people  talk  in  Nor- 
way, the  child  of  habit  and  sluggishness  ;  the  catch-fly  which 
is  viscous  in  the  spring,  but  dries  up  during  the  heat  of 
summer ;  ignes-fatui,  which  dance  upon  life's  swampy  fields, 
glimmer  in  the  dark,  but  vanish  like  vapor  at  sunrise ;  all 
these  and  many  other  symbols  of  love  have  their  prototypes 
in  life,  yesterday  as  to-day ;  and  we  will  let  them  live  their 
Bttle  life,  if  they  "wiil  only  keep  to  the  night,  and  not  give 
themselves  out  for  any  more  than  they  really  are,  not  set  up 
any  claim  to  the  nanie  of  true  love. 

Love  is  not  love, 
Which  alters  when  it  alteration  finds, 
Or  bends  with  the  remover  to  remov* 

u 


226  TiiK  ]"<)i;n  sisters. 

Oh,  no ,  it  is  an  everilxeJ  ina;  Ic, 

That  looks  on  tempt'sts,  and  is  never  shaken; 

It  is  the  star  to  every  wandering  bark, 

Whose  worth's  unknown,  although  his  height  be  taken. 

Love's  not  time's  fool,  though  rosy  lips  ana  che<^k9 

Within  his  bending  sickle's  compass  come 

Love  alters  not  with  his  hrisS  hoars  and  weeks, 

But  bears  it  out  even  to  tiie  edge  of  doom.* 

'R-iie  love  loves  the  eternal  in  its  object,  and  the  nobler  the 
object  the  more  the  sacred  flame  increases,  feeding  itself  with 
esteem,  approval,  admiration,  a  divine  and  human  joy  over 
the  good  and  the  estimable  in-  the  beloved,  sometimes  also  a 
divine  compassion  over  his  deficiencies,  when  at  the  same  time 
the  sonl  is  noble  and  the  desire  only  after  good.  Happy  thou 
who  lovest  a  noble  object, — yes,  even  if  thou  art  not  beloved 
in  return ;  thy  whole  life  will  be  ennobled  and  enlarged 
thereby ;  thou  thyself  wilt  grow  by  thy  love,  grow  up  in 
heaven,  and  there  be  umted  with  thy  beloved  in  the  bosom  of 
eternal  love.  If,  however,  thou  lovest  thus,  and  art  thus 
loved  in  return  by  thy  beloved  ! — 

Thus  did  Yngve  and  Hertha  love  each  other  Avith  all  their 
souls'  best  power.  The  more  intimately  they  became 
acquainted,  the  more  pure  and  inward  was  the  joy  which 
they  experienced  in  each  other  ;  the  more  they  felt  themselves 
to  be  deeply  united.  But  the  serious  character  of  their 
intercourse  ;  the  subjects  which  furnished  them  with  conver- 
sation and  thought  kept  in  long  abeyance  the  magical 
enchanting  sentiment  which  the  poet  calls 

The  heart  which  throbs  through  all  OTSwtljsn, 

wnicn  Tnrougnuux;  all  nature  cioiues  m  wonaerrni  oeatuy  oo- 
ject  for  object,  which  makes  the  sea  luminous,  gives  fragrance 
to  the  flower,  causes  the  birds  to  sing  and  adorn  themselves 
■with  the  most  brilhant  plumage,  and  which  makes  one  human 
being  see  in  his  fellow  human  being,  not  an  equal  but  a  being 

*  Shakespeare's  Somieta. 


THE    FOUR    SISTERS.  227 

of  superhuman  charm  and  superhuman  power,  whose  mere 
step  and  voice  make  the  pulses  beat  with  wonderful  joy,  and 
whose  silent  presence  even  changes  the  whole  existence  to  a 
festival. 

Yngve  and  Hertha  had  begun  a  league  of  friendship  of  the 
most  Spartan-hke  severity,  which  should  exclude  every  weaker 
and  commoner  feeling.  The  inexpressible  charm  in  each  other's 
being,  the  grace,  the  fascination,  awoke  love  which  stole  upon 
them  like  summer  into  the  bosom  of  spring,  as  the  sunbeam 
steals  into  the  folded  bud  and  opens  it  for  a  new  life.  If  Her- 
tha in  her  intercourse  with  Yngve  had  always  continued  to  be 
the  jjroud  woman,  whose  words  were  keenly  caustic,  she  would 
stiU  have  contmued  to  be  an  object  of  esteem  and  also  of  ad- 
mu-ation,  but  she  would  not  have  become  dear  to  his  inmost 
soul.  The  affectionate  and  womanly  heart,  however,  which 
constituted  the  very  essence  of  ter  being,  had,  during  her  inter- 
course with  him,  more  and  more  revealed  itself  The  upright 
and  noble  disposition,  the  clear  insight  into  truth  which  she 
continually  saw  in  Yngve,  the  manly  gentleness  which  was  the 
principal  trait  in  his  character,  had  operated  upon  her,  as  a 
calm  bright  day  upon  the  tumultuous  waves  of  the  ocean  agi- 
tated by  the  storm  of  the  night.  Unconsciously  to  herself  her 
mind  and  her  language  became  more  and  more  gentle,  her 
whole  demeanor  more  beautiftil  and  more  agreeable,  and  not 
unfi-equently  did  the  bright,  flashing  glances  exj)ress  a  deep 
though  imprisoned  warmth  of  feeling. 

Yngve  resigned  himself  with  joy,  and  with  the  fulness  of 
his  whole  heart,  to  the  sentiment  which  so  powerfully  and 
so  blessedly  began  to  captivate  his  soul.  Not  so  Hertha ;  she 
resisted  the  feeling  which  attracted  her  towards  Yngve.  The 
view  which  she  took  of  woman's  position  and  Hfe,  especially  in 
the  north,  and  the  effect  of  her  own  peculiar  cu'cumstances, 
had  made  her  suspicious  and  proud  as  regarded  men  in  gene- 
ral, and  caused  her  to  oppose  herself,  as  it  were,  to  the  impres- 
sion which  Yngve  made  upon  her.  He  was,  in  fact,  a  man, 
and  she  had  said  in  her  heart,  "  I  will  not  love ;  I  will  not 
give  my  soul  and  my  happiness  into  the  power  of  a  man !" 


228  THE    FOUR   SISTERS. 

And  this  determination,  together  with  the  gloomy  backgrouiid 
of  her  own  Hfe,  which  caused  her  to  regard  love  and  its  joys 
as  a  game  for  weak  souls,  a  game  too  mean  for  the  earnest- 
ness of  human  life,  gave  to  her  a  calmness  and  a  power  of  self- 
control  much  beyond  what  was  in  the  power  of  Yngve.  She 
said  to  herself,  "  I  mil  be  Yngve's  friend  ;  I  will  be  to  him  as 
an  elder  sister,  and  love  him  as  my  brother!"  But  Yngve's 
amiable  image  became  ever  more  and  more  an  abiding  light 
in  her  soul,  and  accompanied  her  even  m  her  dreams. 

One  night  it  seemed  to  her  that  she  was  floating  through 
space,  striving  to  ascend  upwards  towards  the  home  of  the 
sun,  but  a  weight  as  of  lead  lay  upon  her  breast,  she  could 
not  breathe,  and  felt  herself  sinking  downwards  towards  a 
black,  bottomless  abyss,  which  yawmed  beneath  her.  But  all 
at  once  the  weight  was  hfted  from  her  breast,  she  breathed 
more  freely,  and  felt  herself  sustained  as  by  a  new  power ; 
more  easily  and  more  securely  than  before  she  floated  upAvards 
towards  the  world  of  light,  to  "  Himla  the  lofty  palace,  fairer 
than  the  sun."  At  that  moment  she  perceived  that  she  was 
not  alone.  A  beaming  angel  with  the  glow  of  morning  on 
his  beautiftil  countenance  floated  towards  her,  took  her  hand, 
and  riveted  upon  her  his  beaming  gaze,  and  that  gaze  was — 
Yngve's. 

Another  time  she  again  saw  herself  beneath  the  verdurous 
tree  of  the  world ;  the  lofty  Nornor  sate  by  the  Urda  fountain. 
But  the  severity  which  she  had  formerly  seen  in  their  counte- 
nances was  softened  to  a  maternal  earnestness,  and  she  heard 
them  say : 

Hail  to  the  spirits  heroic, 

They  who  have  seen ; 

They  who  have  honestly  striven  1 

They  shall  win  victory ; 

They  shall  be  welcome  ; 

Shall  drink  of  the  waters  of  Urda  I 

She  saw  the  hfe-renewing  fountain  leap  up, — oh,  so  clear, 
so  wonderftilly  cleai*  and  glorious  !  whilst  brilliant  rainbows 


THE    FOUR   SISTERS.  229 

encircled  its  silver- white  water-mist.  She  advanced  toAvards 
it ;  and  the  Nornor  filled  a  golden  beaker  with  water  from 
the  fountain  and  gave  her  to  drink.  But  just  when,  with  a 
beating  heart,  she  raised  it  to  her  lips,  behold  it  was  in  the 
hand  of  a  youth,  and  the  youth  seemed  beautiful  and  good  as 
Balder  is  described  in  the  songs  of  the  Edda  ;  he  smiled  upon 
her  as  he  extended  to  her  the  beaker,  and  she  recognised  in 
him — Yngve. 

Hertha  made  a  sketch  of  this  dream  in  her  diary,  and  wrote 
beside  it : 

"  Oh,  Yngve,  much  could  I  lose,  much  could  I  resign,  but 
not  my  hope  of  deliverance  and  my  faith  in  thee !" 

Under  the  influence  of  these  feelings,  Yngve  and  Ilertha 
endeavored,  almost  involuntarily,  to  give  each  other  pleasure 
in  a  noble  way,  even  in  externals.  Yngve  adojited  more  and 
more,  both  tn  style  and  manner,  the  purity  and  delicacy  wliich 
distinguish  the  true  gentleman.  This  pleased  Hertha,  and, 
in  reality,  it  pleased  himself.  Hertha,  on  the  other  hand, 
although  always  grave  and  severe  in  her  taste  as  regarded 
dress,  yet  had  a  pleasure  in  wearing  the  colors  which  Yngve 
said  became  her.  Day  by  day  they  became  more  lovely  to 
each  other,  and  more  haj^py,  but  also  more  indispensable  to 
each  other. 

When  the  year  advanced  to  midsummer,  and  the  Apollo- 
butterfly,  with  his  large  white  wings  and  purple  spots,  flutter- 
ed over  the  wild-roses,  which  in  such  luxuriance  adorn  our 
hedges  and  woods, — when  the  harvest-crops  blossomed  and 
waved  fragrantly  in  the  wdnd,  Yngve  and  Hertha  went  out 
together  almost  every  day  (he  supported  on  her  arm),  now 
along  the  harvest-fields,  where  the  corn  softly  whispered,  or 
through  the  many  chambers  of  the  fir-woods,  where  the  sun- 
beams, as  if  bashful,  stole  between  the  lofty  columnar  bolls, 
and  the  Linnea  sent  forth  its  perfiime  from  the  moss,  A\-!ii;'h 
spread  soft  velvet  carpets  for  the  feet  of  the  wanderers  ;  o-  l)y 
the  river,  which  flowed  like  crystal  between  its  fl'n\  .Ty 
banks;  and  they  conversed  on  subjects  wliich  cause  tlic  s  .ul 
to  expand,  or  they  walked  silently  in  the  deep  and  sweci  v(;u- 


230  THE  FOUR  SISTERS. 

sciousness  of  their  souls'  inward  commnnion,  whilst  they 
listened  to  the  soughing  of  the  woods,  and  to  the  almost 
spiritual  melody  of  the  thrush,  and  all  was  at  once  life  and 
peace. 

Only  when  Hertha  remained  away  for  a  day,  she  would 
find  her  friend,  on  her  next  visit,  in  an  excited  state  of  mind, 
vexed  and  irritable,  but  at  the  same  time  amiable,  and 
Hertha  then  immediately  introduced  some  topic  of  general 
interest,  that  the  storm-cloud,  which  she  called  "a  little  sel- 
fishness," might  be  dispersed,  and  Yngve  soon  forgot  his  an- 
noyance. 

Sometimes,  during  their  wanderings,  Hertha  turned 
Yngve's  attention  to  the  beautiful  objects  of  nature,  for  which 
she,  like  most  women,  possessed  a  deep  feeling,  but  of  which, 
like  the  greatest  number  also,  she  possessed  no  scientific 
knowledge.  She  inquired  from  Yngve  about  the  trees  and 
flowers,  about  stones  and  insects.  Yngve  told  her  their 
names  and  their  peculiar  qualities.  He  took  up  the  lovely  mosses 
and  leaves  which  grew  around  them  upon  the  granite  hills, 
and  showed  her  their  wonderful  formation,  and  told  her  of  the 
beautiful  colors,  and  beneficial  properties  Avhich  the  Creator 
had  bestowed  upon  these,  the  most  humble  children  of  nature. 
He  talked  to  her  about  the  sparks  in  the  stone,  and  the  life  in 
the  insect. 

"  How  happy  you  are,  how  happy  you  men  are,"  sighed 
Hertha,  "who  are  able  to  learn  so  much!  How  fearfolly 
ignorant  are  women  in  general  on  a  vast  number  of  subjects, 
which  at  the  same  time  lie  so  near  to  them,  and  whicli  might 
give  such  rich  nourishment  to  their  souls  and  to  their  whole 
being.  Thus,  for  instance,  nature — we  love  it ;  we  live  in  the 
midst  of  it.  It  has  essential  resemblances  to  ourselves,  and 
yet  it  is  foreign  to  us,  and  we  live  amid  it  Uke  strangers. 
What  do  we  know,  what  do  we  feel  of  its  marvellous  wealth, 
order,  and  life  ?" 

"  Ah !"  replied  Yngve,  "  do  not  say  so  !  you  feel,  you  com- 
prehend much  more  in  the  general  than  we  do.  We  know 
something  about  outward  distmctious,  classes,  orders,  divisions ; 


THE  FOUR  SISTERS.  231 

but  you  comprehencl  nature  in  its  fulness — its  innermost,  its 
divine  life." 

Hertha  shook  her  head,  and  said  mth  a  smile : 
"  I  might  thank  you  for  the  compliment,  if  it  did  not  resem- 
ble many  other  compliments  by  which  men  endeavor  to 
compliment  us  out  of  those  spheres  of  life  where  they  yet  are 
happy  to  be  themselves  able  to  live.  I  know,  Yngve,  that 
you  beheve  and  intend  what  you  say.  But  if  it  be  true  that 
God  gives  us  the  ability  in  a  pre-eminent  manner  to  compre- 
hend the  life  and  the  divine  in  nature,  would  this  ability  be 
diminished  by  our  knowing  something  more  about  this  Ufe, 
its  arrangement  and  character,  its  thoughts,  if  I  may  so  ex- 
press myself?  Would  it  become  less  rich  to  us,  less  divine  if 
we  were  able  to  study  it,  to  learn  to  thhik  about  it,  learn  to 
comprehend  it  with  awakened  minds,  instead  of  dreamily 
losing  ourselves  in  it  ?  Would  not  nature  then  really  nourish 
our  souls,  and  we  perhaps  precisely  because  of  our  deeper 
feeling,  and  with  our  sight  strengthened  by  the  microscope  of 
science,  might  be  able  to  make  observations,  discoveries, 
which — now  are  not  made,  and  which,  therefore,  natural 
science  or  human  life  have  not  the  benefit  of  Should  we  not 
by  that  means  become  acquainted  Avith  the  actual  divine  pur- 
poses of  nature,  instead  of,  as  is  now  commonly  the  case,  our 
own  dull  fancies  ?  In  my  youth  I  used  to  look  at  the  rocks, 
the  trees,  the  grass,  and  all  objects  of  nature,  with  unspeaka- 
ble longing,  Mashing  to  know  something  about  tlieir  kinds, 
their  hfe,  and  their  purpose.  But  the  want  of  knowledge, 
the  want  of  opportunity  to  acquire  it,  has  caused  nature  to  be 
to  me  as  a  sealed  book,  and  still  to  this  moment  it  is  to  me  a 
tantalising,  enticing,  and  ever  retreating  Avave,  rather  than  a 
life-giving  fountain  which  I  can  enjoy,  and  enjoying,  th;uik 
the  Creator." 

"Is  it  really  so?"  said  Yngve ;  "oh,  then  it  ought  to  be 
different.  You  are  right,  you  are  perfectly  right!  And  I 
bad  not  thought  correctly  on  the  subject.  What  egotists  we 
men  are,  after  all ;  will  you  begin  to-morrow  a  little  course 
of  natural  history  ?     I  will  teach  you  anythhig  that  I  know. 


232  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

It  is  not  mucli ;  but  it  might  serve  as  an  entrance-card,  and, 
by  the  help  of  good  books,  you  could  afterwards  go  on  by 
yourself     But  in  the  beginnmg  Ave  can  study  together." 

'•Thank  you,  Yngve,  you  are  very  kind!"  said  Hertha, 
and  looked  at  him  with  a  glance  which  shone  through  tears ; 
and  then  she  added,  in  an  undervoice,  as  if  to  herself,  whilst 
she  glanced  over  the  landscape  around  them,  which  was 
clothed  as  a  bride  in  all  the  beauty  of  a  northern  midsummer, 
"  I  shall  yet  become  better  acquainted  with  thee !  Oh,  life, 
after  all,  is  so  beautiful !" 

These  words,  from  Hertha's  lips,  gave  a  feeling  of  heavenly 
joy  to  Yngve's  heart,  because  he  heard  in  them  the  fulfilment 
of  his  heart's  wish,  which  was  to  reconcile  her  "VAdth  life. 

And  life  became  more  and  more  beaiitiful  to  them  whilst 
they  thus  lived  and  learned  together,  contemplating  God's 
work  and  Avisdom  in  nature,  in  history,  and,  above  all,  in  that 
history  Avhich  alone  is  able  fully  to  explain  both  the  order  and 
disorder  of  the  former.  Because  Hertha  understood  more 
profoundly  than  YngA^e  that — 

Xature  is  a  fallen  angel, 

But  in  the  fallen  angel's  face  shine  clearly 

The  lofty  features  of  a  heavenly  lineage, 

And  Daphne's  heart  beneath  the  bark  is  throbbing. 

They  never  spoke  of  love,  but  they  called  it  forth,  they 
loved  it ;  and  its  delicious  fascination  cast  a  magical  light  over 
their  life,  and  all  whicli  surrounded  tliem.  They  AA^alked  pure 
and  peaceful  m  each  other's  sight,  illumined  by  the  eye  of 
God,  as  were  the  first  loving  couple  on  our  earth  in  the 
Garden  of  Paradise. 


THE   FOUR  SISTERS.  233 


THE  SERPENT. 

Hektha  said  one  day  to  Yngve  : 

"  Yngve,  help  me  to  explain  this  old  primeval  story :  but 
first  I  will  read  it  aloud  to  you;  its  contradiction  has  long 
tormented  me." 

Hertha  read : 

"  Now  the  sei'pent  was  more  subtile  than  any  beast  of  the 
field  which  the  Lord  God  had  made.  And  he  said  unto  thg 
woman,  Yea,  hath  God  said,  Ye  shall  not  eat  of  every  tree  of 
the  garden  ? 

"  And  the  woman  said  unto  the  serpent,  We  may  eat  of  the 
fruit  of  the  trees  of  the  garden : 

'•  But  of  the  fruit  of  the  tree  which  is  in  the  midst  of  the 
garden,  God  hath  said.  Ye  shall  not  eat  of  it,  neither  shall  ye 
touch  it,  lest  ye  die. 

"  And  the  serpent  said  unto  the  woman,  Ye  shall  not  surely 
die: 

"  For  God  doth  know  that  in  the  day  ye  eat  thereof,  then 
your  eyes  shall  be  opened,  and  ye  shall  be  as  gods,  knowing 
good  and  evil. 

"And  when  the  woman  saw  that  the  tree  was  good  for 
food,  and  that  it  was  pleasant  to  the  eyes,  and  a  tree  to  be 
desired  to  make  one  "svise,  she  took  of  the  fruit  thereof,  and 
did  eat,  and  gave  also  unto  her  husband " 

Here  Hei'tha  stopped,  looked  at  Yngve,  and  said : 

"  She  had,  after  all,  a  great  spirit,  this  our  first  mother, 
because  she  sought  for  knowledge,  sought  to  become  as  God, 
even  at  the  risk  of  losing  life  and  all  its  daily  enjoyments. 
She  obeyed  a  mighty  inspiration." 

"  But  the  serpent  tempted  her,"  suggested  Yngve. 


234  THE  FOUR   SISTERS. 

"  Yes,  so  it  is  written  ;  but  now  listen  to  me,  Yngve.  If 
knowledge — the  '  being  made  wise ' — ^is  a  means  of  attaining 
perfection,  of  becoming  as  God, — and  we  know  of  ourselves 
that  it  is  a  necessary  means  by  which  we  can  gain  a  knowledge 
of  God  and  his  truth, — when  then  is  it  said  that  this  knowledge 
is  forbidden  ?  And  when  the  love  of  knowledge,  the  desire 
for  a  higher  consciousness,  was  the  power  which  drew  on  Eve, 
wherefore  is  she  punished,  and  after  her  all  her  daughters — ■ 
by  an  exclusion  from  the  tree  of  knowledge,  which  taught  good 
and  evil,  and  by  the  same  rule  from  the  tree  of  life,  which 
gives  her  permission  to  live  for  ever  ?  How  irrational  is  that, 
how  unjust, — at  least  so  it  seems  to  me, — how  unreasonable, 
how  severe  appear  both  laAvgiver  and  judge !" 

"  From  the  Christian  point  of  view,  certainly,"  replied 
Yngve,  "  and  when  we  look  at  portions  of  the  nari'ative  in 
detail  and  literally — taking  it  for  granted  that  our  translation 
from  the  original  is  j^erfectly  faithful.  And  to  me  it  has 
always  seemed  in  these  parts  to  bear  traces  of  the  darkness 
which  belongs  even  to  the  profoundest  views  of  nations  during 
their  age  of  childhood.  But  the  basis  of  its  idea  seems  to  me 
true,  and  those  detailed  portions  of  the  narrative  may  be 
explamed  from  this  point  of  view.  For  in  order  to  become 
possessed  of  a  full  self-consciousness  and  to  be  a  free  agent,  the 
human  being  must  pass  through  a  strong  temptation.  That 
is  (in  consequence  of  the  spiritual-natural-law)  for  the  human 
being  to  make  of  his  own  Zthe  centre,  instead  of  the  true 
centre — God.  Selfishness  (as  pride  and  love  of  pleasure)  is  the 
temptation,  '  the  serpent'  wliicli  caused  the  human  being  to 
fail  in  his  allegiance  to  his  rightful  Lord  and  Benefactor,  and 
too  soon  for  the  sake  of  his  own  greatness,  to  grasp  after  that 
which  was  the  forbidden  fruit — forbidden  only  during  the 
period  of  childhood,  Avheu  the  human  being  could  not  digest 
it.  Obedience  to,  and  faith  in  his  highest  benefactor,  were  his 
first  duties.  The  interdict  which  the  Creator  had  imposed 
He  could  have  removed  ;  He  could  have  appointed  a  time 
when  He,  the  fountain  of  all  knowledge  and  wisdom,  would 
have  taken  the  hmnau  child  bv  the  hand  and  led  it  to  the  tree 


THE   FOUR  SISTERS.  235 

of  kno^  ledge,  and  taught  it  what  Avas  good  and  what  was  evil. 
Knowledge  as  well  as  pleasure  are  forbidden  only  to  the  selfish 
principle  in  humanity.  Man  must  attain  to  them  only  through 
firm  obedience  and  love  to  God.  The  faU  was  this — that  the 
selfish  principle  conquered ;  that  the  human  being  became  a 
god  to  himself,  and  sought  to  obtain  the  highest,  but  not  by 
means  of  the  Highest.  The  natural  and  inevitable  conse- 
quences of  the  fall  are  the  loss  of  Paradise,  the  degradation, 
the  darkening  of  the  whole  human  world.  The  restoration 
begins  with  a  new  inspiration  in  the  human  consciousness — 
how  bright  your  eyes  are,  Hertha !" 

"  My  soul  is  bright,  Yngve.  Oh,  I  see  it — I  understand  it 
now, — the  powerful  impulses  of  our  first  mother,  the  fall,  the 
long  excommunication,  and — the  restoration,  by  means  of  the 
new  birth,  in  the  soul  of  the  new  Eve.  I  see  her  sit  at  the 
feet  of  the  Saviour,  see  her  illumined  by  his  glance  and  guided 
hj  his  word,  impelled  by  a  new,  a  higher  inspiration,  again 
approach  the  tree  of  knowledge  and  thence  pluck  the  fi'uit  for- 
bidden no  longer,  and  give  it  to  her  friend — her  husband. 
The  last  witness  of  the  Creator  in  the  first  Creation  will  come 
forth  as  the  last  "«-itness  of  him  in  the  second,  bearing  witness 
to  him  fi-om  the  depths  of  conscience,  and  through  a  higher 
knowledge,  a  more  spiritual  comprehension  of  Hfe  and  reahty. 
Do  you  not  see  it  as  I  do,  Yngve  ?" 

"  I  see  it  is  so  if — the  witness  is  j^ure,  noble,  holy  in  desires 
and  inchnation.  The  deeper  tho  insight  the  higher  the  know- 
ledge. But  the  life  of  the  heart  is  ever  the  strength  of  the 
woman,  and  the  means  of  the  highest  knowledge  is  pre- 
eminently for  her  a  higher  love.  Don't  you  think  so, 
Hertha  ?» 

"  Yes,  she  must  love  truth,  God  above  everything." 

Both  were  silent.  A  painful  feeling  seemed  to  enter 
Yngve's  soul,  and  after  a  moment  he  said  with  a  deep  and 
earnest  voice : 

"  Can  any  one  love  God,  can  a  human  being  understand  his 
love  and  how  to  love  him  witliout  having  first  loved — his 
fellow  ?     Can  you  do  it — are  you  unlike  me  ?     I  never  rightly 


236  THE   FOUR   SISTERS, 

understood  what  the  love  of  God  is,  until  I  learned  to  love — 
a  fellow-creature." 

Hertha  was  silent.  Yngve  regarded  her  with  a  tender  in- 
quiring gaze,  as  he  continued — 

"  Could  you  not,  with  your  whole  heart,  he  able  to  love  a 
fellow-creature — your  equal  ?" 

"  Yes,"  replied  Hertha  hesitatmgly,  "  but  I  should  be 
afraid  of  the  selfish — the  harrowing  effect  of  such  a  feehng." 

"  But  if  you  were  loved  by  some  one  who,  hke  yourself, 
loved  the  highest,  should  you  then  be  afraid  of  respondmg  to 
his  feelmg,  Hertha — would  you  be  afraid  of  loving — me  ?" 

Hertha  grew  pale  ;  cast  a  glance  at  Yngve,  hke  a  flash  of 
lightning  which  is  quickly  concealed  by  cloud,  and  repUed 
softly—"  Yes." 

The  extraordinary  confession  in  this  word  fanned  to  flame 
the  long-cherished  fire  in  Yngve's  breast ;  he  seized  Hertha's 
hand,  pressed  it  to  his  breast,  as  he  exclaimed — 

"  Beloved,  beloved  Hertha !  Be  not  afraid  of  me  ;  love  me 
as  I  love  you !  God  has  given  us  to  each  other — I  feel  that 
deeply.     Oh,  you  are  mine,  mine  !" 

But  whilst  Yngve  thus  gazed  on  Hertha  with  burning 
love,  her  countenance  became  paler  and  paler,  and  when  his 
warm  lips  rested  upon  her  lips  and  her  eyelids,  she  whispered 
with  unutterable  depth  of  feeling : 

"  Oh,  Yngve,  why  would  you  break  the  peace  between  us?" 

She  felt  near  fainting.  "  Give  me  a  glass  of  water,"  she 
said  hastily,  to  remove  Yngve  and  to  gain  time  to  collect  her- 
self.    Yngve  rose. 

It  was  not  agreeable  that  the  pastor's  wife  came  in  at  that 
moment  and  interrupted  the  convei'sation  of  the  lovers.  And 
the  deUcious  melon  and  other  fruits  which  she  brought  with 
her  did  not  prevent  Yngve  from  wishing  the  good  lady  at  the 
place  where  pepper  grows,  nor  yet  that  Hertha,  after  a  mo- 
ment's pause,  availed  herself  of  her  presence  to  leave  the  room. 

Yngve  followed  her  outside  the  door,  when  he  said  quickly, 
and  with  an  anxious  tenderness,  "Hertha,  I  must  see  you, 
must  talk  with  you  to-morrow.     I  shall  come  to  you  !" 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  237 

*'  Not  to-morrow,  Yngve,"  replied  Hertha ;  "  to-morrow  I 
shall  be  prevented  from  seeing  you ;  but  soon,  if  you  wish  it." 

But  there  was  in  Hertha's  expression  a  sadness  which 
Yngve  could  not  understand,  and  which  made  him  uneasy. 

"Have  I  distressed  you?"  asked  he.  "Oh,  just  bear  in 
mnid  that  I  have  loved  you  so  tenderly  and  so  long  in  silence, 
that  I " 

It  was  not  agi'eeable  that  the  pastor  now  came  and  inter- 
rupted the  declaration ;  and  he  saw  very  plainly  that  he  was 
not  welcome  ;  he  exclaimed  therefore  in  a  jocular  way : 

"  Oh,  oh !  You  have  got  something  to  say  to  one  another 
which  I  have  no  right  to  hear,  I  can  see  !  Well,  well,  I'll  go 
my  way,  and — when  you  have  need  of  the  old  clei'gyman,  you 
can  just  let  me  know,  children.  I'll  come  immediately  with 
the  book !" 

But  before  he  had  left  the  spot,  Hertha,  with  a  hasty 
salutation  to  both  gentlemen,  was  speeding  rapidly  away  from 
them. 

On  her  way  home  she  endeavored  to  read  her  own  soul,  to 
obtain  a  clear  knowledge  of  her  own  excited  feelings.  What 
had  happened  to  her  ?  That  which  is  of  the  most  common 
occurrence, — which  happens  to  the  most  ordinary  woman 
from  the  most  ordinary  man ;  her  feelings  had  awoke  under 
the  burning  ray  of  the  kiss  of  the  beloved.  Was  she  displeased 
by  his  bold  advance  ?  No,  in  reality  not.  This  is  never  dis- 
pleasing to  a  woman  on  the  part  of  the  beloved,  when  she 
knows  that  the  fire  which  burns  ia  it  is  not  that  of  earth. 
And  Hertha  could  not  be  mistaken  in  the  heart-felt  reaUty, 
the  truth  of  Yngve's  feelings.  But  still  she  mourned  over  this 
their  outburst,  and  the  feelings  which  it  awoke  in  her; 
mourned  as  the  sylphide  mourns  when,  snared  in  the  magical 
web,  she  sees  her  wings  fall  ofi".  Although  enchanting  as  the 
fragrance-laden  zephyrs  of  the  tropics,  were  the  feehngs  which 
now  were  kindled  in  her  soul,  she  still  regarded  them  as 
a  fallmg  away  from  the  pure  region  in  which  she  had  hitherto 
lived  and  breathed  with  Yngve. 

*'  It   can   never   again  be  between  us   as  it  has  been !" 


238  THE  FOUR,  SISTERS, 

thought  she  with  uneasy  regret,  as  she  felt  that  Yngve  had 
obtained  a  poAver  over  her  which  she  did  not  vohmtarily 
concede  to  him,  and  to  which  she  would  not  willingly  submit 
herself.     And  then  the  old  serpent  of  suspicion  whispered  : 

"  Perhaps  he  talked  thus  ;  perhaps  he  behaved  thus  to  the 
fii-st  girl  whom  he  loved,  and  then — deserted.  Perhaps  she 
was,  like  me,  weak ;  and  I  foolish,  like  her  ! — Yngve  has  been 
really  inconstant — perhaps   guilty — did   I   not   once   see   an 

acknowledgment  of  that  in  h's  looks  ?  And  I  might Nay, 

Yngve,  you  ^oU  not  find  me  so  easily  won.  It  is  not  for  such 
sentimental  talk,  for  such  selfish  love  that  I  have,  through  the 
whole  of  my  Ufe,  longed  and  suffered,  and  now  have  been 
graciously  gifted  by  God  with  hght  and  hope ! — No !  away  with 
such  wealvness  !  away  with  these  selfish  feelings  and  thoughts !" 

And  Hertha  walked  with  a  proud  step  through  the  ruins  of 
the  consumed  town.  Then  came  to  her  mind  the  remem- 
brance of  Yngve's  noble  and  amiable  character  ;  the  remem- 
brance of  the  beautiful  devotion  which  he  had  shown  towards 
her ;  of  the  light  which  in  so  many  ways  he  had  let  in  upon 
her  soul ;  and  she  was  filled  with  sentiments  of  unspeakable 
tenderness  and  gratitude.  And  these,  in  connexion  with  her 
pure,  moral  feelings,  soon  showed  her  a  way  to  reconciliation 
and  harmony. 

"  I  will  talk  openly  with  him,"  thought  she,  "  I  will  open 
my  soul  to  him,  and  if  he  be  the  Yngve  whicn  I  beheve  him, 
the  noble  Yngve  whom  I  can  love,  he  will  hsten  to  me  and 
tinderstand  me,  and  become  clear  before  himself  and  before 
me.  I  will  take  his  hand  and  lead  him  into  the  most  holy 
sanctuary  of  hfe,  and  let  a  holy  fire  consume  the  burning  coals 
of  sensual  pleasure  from  our  Hj)S,  out  of  our  hearts.  I  will 
sanctify  both  him  and  myself  in  the  service  of  the  Highest. 
Thus  only,  Yngve,  can  you  become  mine  and  I  yours," 

And  Hertha's  heart  beat  again  freely  and  sti'ongly,  and  her 
eyes  beamed  with  a  fire  so  pure  and  so  glo^ving,  that  a  seraph 
of  heaven  might  have  beUeved  it  beheld  one  of  its  fellows  m 
this  wanderer  on  earth. 

"  How  bright  your  eyes  are !     How  handsome  you  are 


THE    FOUR    SISTERS.  239 

after  all,  Hertlia !"    said  the  young  sisters,   wlio   rushed  to 
meet  her  on  her  return  home. 

"I  think  you  are  the  handsomest  creature  in  the  whole 
M'orkl !"    said  the  enthusiastic  Uttle  Maria,  embracing  her. 

Hertha  kissed  her  sisters  and  smiled.  She  now  felt  herself 
cheerful  and  happy. 

But  when  late  in  the  evening  she  went  into  her  chamber, 
she  found,  on  the  table  beside  her  bed,  a  letter,  at  the  sight 
of  which  an  unpleasant  sensation  involuntarily  passed  through 
her.  Its  contents  were  as  follows,  in  a  handwriting  unknown 
to  Hertha : — 

"  Friends  of  Hertha  F.  consider  it  to  be  their  duty  to 
inform  her,  that  the  young  man  in  whose  company  she  is  most 
days,  and  to  whom  there  is  every  reason  to  suppose  that  she 
is  betrothed,  pays  in  the  mean  tim.e  secret  visits  to  a  person 

of  not  very  good  repute,  living  at  No.  3, Lane,  and  who 

is  at  the  same  time  considered  to  be  the  father  of  her  child. 
This  person  calls  herself  Amalia  Winter." 

"  It  is  a  lie  !"  said  Hertha  coldly,  as  she  flung  the  anony- 
mous letter  on  the  floor,  "  a  scandalous  lie !  Yngve,  we  have 
seen  each  other  for  six  months  ;  we  have  opened  our  souls  to 
each  other,  promised  each  other  truth  and  integrity,  and  you 
should  have  been  able — no,  it  is  not  true  !" 

And  she  trampled  on  the  letter  with  proud  scorn  and 
anger.  But  she  was  feverish  through  the  night,  and  did  not 
sleep  a  wink.  The  following  day  she  occupied  herself  busHy 
with  the  affau's  of  the  family,  and  was  incessantly  employed 
in  them.  But  when  twilight  came,  she  put  on  her  bonnet  and 
shawl,  and  went  to  Amaha's  lodgings. 

As  she  approached  the  place  it  was  already  very  dusk ; 
nevertheless  she  saw  a  man  going  out  of  the  house,  who 
passed  down  the  street  in  the  direction  opposite  to  that  from 
■  which  she  came.  True  it  was  dusk,  and  he  passed  into  the 
twilight  hke  a  shadow ;  nevertheless  the  figure,  the  difficulty 
Math  which  he  walked,  supported  by  a  stick,  an  indescribable 
but  unquestionable  feeling,  which  did  not  permit  of  a  doubt, 
told  her  his  name. 


240  THE   POTJR   SISTERS 


THE  NAME. 

Hertha  entered  Amalia's  room  in  a  state  of  feeling  which 
is  easier  to  imagine  than  to  desci-ibe.  She  foimd  her  alone, 
sitting  beside  the  cradle  of  her  child.  AmaUa  was  evideutly 
in  an  excited  state  of  mind,  but  not  alone  fi-om  suffering, 
though  she  appeared  to  have  wept.  She  rushed  towards 
Hertha  with  agitated  impetuosity,  embraced  her,  and  buried 
for  a  moment  her  face  on  her  shoulder. 

Hertha  released  herself  softly  from  her  arms,  took  her  head 
between  her  hands,  and  gazed  with  her  deep,  earnest  eyes 
into  those  of  her  cousin,  and  said  : 

"  What  is  the  meaning  of  this,  Amalia  ?  You  are  excited  ; 
you  have  been  weeping." 

"  Yes,"  repUed  Amalia,  turning  away  and  re-seating  herself 
by  her  child ;  "  yes,  but  not  from  sorrow.  I  have  had  a 
pleasure,  a  comfort ;  it  will  henceforth  be  better  for  me — 
better  than  I  deserve.  But  do  not  ask  me  any  questions, 
Hertha.     I  cannot,  must  not  say  any  more  !" 

"  You  must  tell  me  more,  Amalia !"  said  Hertha,  with 
terrible  earnestness  ;  "  you  mvist  tell  me  the  name  of  him  who 
is  the  father  of  your  child." 

"  Impossible  !"  rephed  Amalia.     "  Do  not  ask  it  from  me, 
Hertha!     Everything,  everything  except  this,  will  I  tell  you. 
I  have  sworn  not  to  reveal  it.      I  should  make  him  unhappy 
should  impede  his  future  success No,  no,  never !" 

"  Answer  me,"  said  Hertha  in  a  A^oice  which  sounded 
almost  awful,  it  was  so  calm,  so  low,  yet  at  the  same  time  so 
fearfully  imperative  ;  "  is  the  name — Yngve  Nordm  ?" 

Amalia  started  up.  "  My  God,  Hertha !  How,  how  have 
you  come  to  know  the  name  ?     I  have  never  mentioned  it  to 


THE    FOUR    SISTERS.  241 

•iny  one ;  I  had  sworn  to  conceal  it,  I  vowed,  tliis  to  Lira, 
because — I  was  more  guilty  than  he.  My  inexcusable  levity 
"was  to  blame ;  I  seduced  him,  and  not  he  me ;  that  is  the 
truth — the  whole  truth.  He  was  weak,  but  he  is  not  wicked. 
He  will  now  make  amends; — he  will  provide  for  his  child. 
Oh,  he  is  in  reality  noble  and  good  !" 

AmaUa  might  have  continued  talking  thus ;  but  Hertha 
scarcely  heard  her  after  the  first  acknowledgment.  The 
room,  the  earth,  the  whole  world,  swam  round  as  it  were. 
She  felt  dizzy,  and  was  obliged  to  seat  herself  She  sate 
immoveable,  with  her  head  bowed  into  her  hands,  and  with- 
out speaking  a  word.  At  length  Amalia  approached  her, 
asking  anxiously : 

"  Hertha !  why  are  you  sitting  so  ?  Will  you  not  look  at 
me ;  nor  speak  a  word  to  me  ? — Are  you  ill  ?" 

"  Yes,"  replied  Hertha,  rising  slowly,  "  my  head  feels  v.ery 
strange,  and — I  must  now  leave  you,  Amalia  ;  but  you  shall 
soon  hear  from  me.     Farewell !" 

She  was  deathly  pale,  but  the  deep  twilight  prevented  Amalia 
from  seeing  it. 

Amaha  followed  her  anxiously.  "  You  Avill  soon  be  better 
again,"  she  said. 

"  I  hope  so — I  trust  so." 

"  And  you'll  soon  come  again  to  me  ?" 

"  Soon — as  soon  as  I  can." 

"And  you'll  hide  the  secret — the  name — as  if  in  the  grave." 

"  As  if  in  the  grave,"  repeated  poor  Hertha,  in  a  half-sup- 
pressed voice,  as  she  left  the  room. 

She  was  obliged  to  pause  when  she  reached  the  stairs.  She 
sate  down  on  one  of  the  steps  and  rested  her  head  against 
the  wall,  and  wished  for  a  moment  to  lose  consciousness  and 
life  together.  People  coming  up  the  stairs  obliged  her  to  rise. 
She  walked  homeward  like  some  one  in  a  frightful  dream.  An 
intolerable  burden  lay  upon  her  breast,  and  eternal  darkness 
seemed  to  spread  out  his  black  wings  over  life  and  the  wliole 
world.  When  she  reached  the  desolated  portion  of  the  towni 
she  was  again  compelled  to  stop.  She  seated  herself  on  a 
15 


242  THE    rOUU    Slt^TERS. 

blackened  piece  of  wall.  "  Was  the  extremest  truth — the  ex- 
tremest  reality — of  life  and  reality,  a  ruin  ?   Yngve  !  Yngve!" 

She  reached  home  ;  her  young  sisters  rushed  into  her  arms. 

"  You  have  stayed  so  long ! — and  it  is  so  dark !  We  have 
been  so  anxious !"" 

Hertha  kissed  her  darlings,  asked  them  to  leave  her  alone 
for  a  moment,  and  went  into  her  own  room. 

Before  long  she  came  out  again,  evidently  calmer,  in  order 
to  join  the  rest  of  the  family  at  table.  The  Director  and 
Aunt  Nella  were  more  loquacious  and  more  lively  than  usual. 
Hertha,  as  usual,  attended  to  all  at  table,  ate  and  drank  also 
a  little,  but  still  the  young  sisters  every  now  and  then  cast 
upon  her  questioning  and  almost  sad  glances.  They  saw  that 
everything  was  not  right,  that  something  out  of  the  common 
way,  that  something  very  sad  had  happened  to  her. 

When  the  family  separated  for  the  evening,  Hertha  took  her 
sisters  with  her  into  her  room,  seated  herself^  and  putting  an 
arm  round  each  of  them,  said — 

"  Little  ones,  I  must  go  a  journey  which  will  require  a  week, 
perhaps  two,  and  you  must,  in  the  mean  time,  manage  the 
house,  and  see  that  everything  is  comfortable  for  papa  and 
aunt. 

"  Early  in  the  morning  you,  Maria,  must  give  this  letter  to 
papa,  and  afterwards  you  must  read  the  papers  to  him  in  my 
stead.  Martha  must  in  the  meantime  undertake  the  house- 
keeping. Here  are  the  keys  of  the  larder,  the  cellar,  and  the 
store-room,  and  there  the  housekeeping  money  for  the  remain- 
der of  the  month.  Let  me  see,  my  little  Martha,  that  you 
can  attend  to  this  as  well  as  you  have  already  begun,  as  my 
adjutant.  Endeavor  that  I  may  be  able,  on  my  return,  to 
praise  you  both.  Whatever  you  can  think  of  as  best  for  the 
comfort  of  papa  and  aunt,  that  do.  You  must  also  think  of 
me,  my  dear  children,  and  pray  God  for  me,  and  I  will — I  will 
write  to  you,  and  tell  you  the  day  when  I  shall  return,  and 
perhaps  I  may  be  back  before  you  expect.  In  any  case  I  will 
write  to  you." 

The  young  girls  began  to  weep. 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  243 

"What  has  happened?"  asked  they;  "you  are  so  pale, 
Hertha  ?  And  your  hands  are  so  cold.  Something  distress- 
ing  has  happened  ?" 

"  Yes  ;  but  don't  ask  any  more,  now.  Some  time,  perhaps, 
I  may  be  able  to  tell  you — but  now,  good  night,  little  sisters ; 
good  night !" 

She  clasped  them  in  her  arms,  kissed  them,  and  desired  them 
to  go  to  their  own  room.  But  they  clung  sorrowfully  round 
her  neck. 

"  Do  not  forsake  us  !"  besought  they,  weeping,  "  we  have 
nobody  to  cling  to  and  look  up  to  but  you.  You  are  our  only 
support,  and  the  only  joy  we  have  in  the  world.  Don't  leave  us  !'* 

"No,  no,  never!"  said  Hertha,  with  decision,  "never,  with 
my  soul  and  my  heart ;  and  if  I  go  away  for  a  little  while,  it 
is  only  that  I  may  be  able  all  the  more  calmly  to  stay  with 
you,  my  sisters,  my  darlings !" 

But  Hertha  could  not  separate  herself  from  them  until  they 
had  covered  her  with  their  caresses  and  tears. 

"  Sister  ? — if  there  is  a  word  which  is  pleasant  to  me  to 
hear — pleasanter  than  the  sweetest  music,  it  is  that  word,  sis- 
ter !"  said  on  one  occasion  to  me  a  mother,  with  two  separate 
families  of  daughters,  whom  she  had  taught  to  speak  that 
word  of  love. 

Happy  the  home  where  the  name  "  sister"  is  spoken  in  love 
and  in  joy.  Heaven's  innocence  and  the  communion  of  angels 
live  and  bloom  there  in  sweet  images,  the  growth  of  an  inspi- 
ration which,  in  scarcely  any  other  relationship,  is  so  pure,  so 
free,  and  so  refreshing.  Xo  attachment  is  at  the  same  time  so 
tender  and  so  joyous,  so  productive  of  innocent  mirth,  of  fresh, 
ever-young  laughter,  and  at  the  same  time  so  affluent  of  peace, 
of  heartfelt  love,  as  that  between  sisters. 

But  iinhappy  the  home  where  the  word  "  sister"  is  spoken 
in  bitterness  by  bitter  hearts!  There  lives  the  rust  which 
"  eats  into  the  heart,"  and  there  the  intercourse  which  makes 
life  wormwood,  and  "  embitters  the  well-springs  of  earth." 
Sisters,  who  live  together  in  this  spirit,  take  courage  and 
separate ! 


244  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

Sisters,  who  during  a  heavenly  communion  afforded  ma 
heavenly  joys,  and  bitter  sorrow  only  Avhen  Heaven  took  you 
from  me :  beloved  sisters,  it  is  of  you  that  I  think  when  I 
speak  of  the  sweetest  and  most  purifying  sentiment  in  the 
world,  that  which  binds  sister  to  sister,  and  enables,  through 
this  love,  much  to  be  borne  and  much  to  be  overcome. 

When  Martha  and  Maria  were  together  in  their  little  cham- 
ber, they  gave  for  a  while  free  vent  to  their  tears,  as  well  as 
to  conjectures  which  did  not  atford  them  any  Ught.  Finally, 
they  endeavored  to  console  themselves  with  thinking  what 
they  should  do  in  the  house  during  Hertha's  absence,  and 
which  would  give  her  pleasure  on  her  return.  And  these  lit- 
tle plans  for  the  future  cast  a  roseate  glow  over  the  increasing 
darkness  of  evening. 

Hertha,  on  her  pai't,  had  felt  in  her  sisters'  embrace  the 
renewal  of  a  firm  resolve  to  Hve  for  them ;  but  for  that  pur- 
pose, precisely  for  that  purpose,  must  she  now  leave  them  for 
a  little  time  ;  she  felt  that  she  must  do  it. 

Reader !  either  by  thy  own  means,  or  by  means  of  another, 
has  a  misfortune  happened  to  thee,  which  thou  knowest  to  be 
irremediable ;  which  has  struck  thee  with  a  kind  of  panic  ter- 
ror, and  cast  a  fearful  burden  upon  thy  breast,  and  taken 
away,  as  it  were,  thy  breath,  and  dimmed  thy  sight — so  that 
it  seems  to  thee  as  if  thou  couldst  never  more  be  happy,  never 
more  breathe  freely — then  thoii  v>n\t  understand  what  Hertha 
felt.  If  thou  dost  not  die  of  this  blow,  or  become  insane, — as 
sometimes  happens, — then  will  a  strange  unrest  take  posses- 
sion of  thee,  and  thou  wilt  feel  that  in  order  to  escape  the 
ravenous  beast  which  threatens  to  tear  thee  to  pieces, — the 
night  which  seems  as  if  it  would  swallow  thee  up, — that  thou 
must  fly,  fly  away  from  the  time  and  the  place,  away  from 
thyself,  if  possible, — away  from  the  horrible  oppression  which 
weighs  upon  thee,  from  that  which  is  there,  as  a  corpse,  a 
ghost  before  thine  eyes,  and  which  prevents  thee  from  think- 
ing or  feeling  aright,  by  the  horror  of  its  silent,  sorrowful  pre- 
sence. And  if  thou  so  feelest,  oh,  well  for  thee  if  thou  oanst 
take  wings  and  fly  away  from  the  time  and  from  the  place ! 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  245 

It  is  indeod  merely  an  earthly,  physical  means ;  but  it  is  never- 
theless  a  little  helj)  to  obtain  breathing  room,  and  to  give  the 
soul  time  and  power  to  reflect  upon  itself,  and  upon  that  which 
has  happened.  Travel  diverts  the  mind.  The  black  demon 
which  has  eaten  into  our  hearts  is  lulled  to  sleep  by  it.  We 
do  not  incessantly  feel  him  stabbing  and  gnamng,  and  Ave  are 
able  to  gain  strength  to  combat  with  him ;  yet  not  alone  from 
travelling  and  action. 

In  order  to  escape  fi-om  the  torturing  pang  which  had  over- 
come her,  and  to  avoid  the  visits  and  proximity  of  Yngve,  and 
to  gain  time  for  reflection  on  the  line  of  conduct  which  she 
ought  to  pursue  with  regard  to  him, — in  order  to  endeavor, 
from  her  ovm  soul's  depths,  to  obtain  some  light  in  the  dark- 
ness which  now  surrounded  herself  and  him,  Hertha  felt  that 
she  must  go  away  for  a  time, — whither,  was  a  matter  of 
indifference  to  her — only  away,  away  from  him. 

Through  the  whole  night  she  paced  to  and  fro  in  her  cham- 
ber, restless  and  sleepless.  Sometimes  she  stood  by  the  wmdow 
and  looked  up  to  heaven,  but  without  prayer,  and  almost 
without  thought,  except  that  dark  abyss  of  doubt  which  had 
so  long  lain  like  a  Nidhogg  at  the  root  of  her  soul,  and  which 
now  again  lifted  up  his  head  through  the  covering  of  flowers 
which  had  latterly  been  placed  there.  The  stars  gUttered 
brilliantly  and  coldly,  and  darkness  overspread  the  earth. 

At  daybreak  she  dressed  herself  for  her  journey ;  took  a 
little  travelling-bag  which  contained  some  necessary  articles 
of  clothing,  together  with  a  small  sum  of  money,  the  gift  of 
her  father,  and  with  this  in  her  hand  set  out  on  the  way  to  the 
harbor,  which  was  between  one  and  two  miles  distant  from 
her  home. 

Like  Rudolph  some  months  before,  with  the  sense  of  a  vast 
unhappiness  in  her  soul,  she  walked  solitary  along  the  dreary 
high  road  to  seek  for  rest  somewhere,  a  long  way  from  home. 
"  Poor  Rudolph  !  "  sighed  Hertha,  involuntarily.  She  felt  a 
reproach  of  conscience  for  having  almost  forgotten  him  (al- 
though she  had  written  to  him  and  he  to  her  more  than  once 
since  his  flight),  for  the  feelings  and  thoughts  which  had  dur- 


246  THE    FOUR   SISTERS. 

ing  the  last  few  weeks  engrossed  her  whole  soul;  and  she 
suddenly  took  the  resolution  of  visitmg  him  at  Copenhagen. 

"  I  will  see  him !  "  thought  she  ;  "  I  can  understand  him 
better  than  formerly,  and  that  will  help  hun  to  bear  his 
imfortunate  life !  " 

And  perhaps  also  help  myself,  whispered  a  low  voice  in 
Ilertha's  soul.  There  was  now  an  object  in  her  journey 
beyond  herself,  and  this  object  shone  like  a  little  star  on  her 
gloomy  path.  It  gleamed  above  her  in  the  dark  heaven  ;  it 
lighted  and  guided  her  steps. 

There  is  nothing  which,  for  energetic  and  at  the  same  time 
truly  feminine  characters,  is  so  sustaining  under  their  own 
calamity,  or  which  is  endowed  with  so  great  a  power  of  com- 
pensation, both  for  soul  and  mind,  as  the  being  able  to  comfort 
and  support  another — above  all,  a  friend.  By  the  thought 
of  this  the  soul  holds  itself  fast,  as  by  an  anchor,  while  the 
stonn  rages  and  the  waves  heave  aloft,  she  feels  her  own 
danger  less  ; — it  may  be  that  she  forgets  it. 

When  Hertha  reached  the  harbor  she  found  one  of  the 
steam-boats  just  leaving  for  the  western  coast,  and  its  dark 
column  of  smoke  circling  aloft  towards  the  clear  blue  heaven. 
As  soon  as  she  was  on  board,  the  plank  was  drawn  to  shore. 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  £47 


THE  JOURNEY; 

GIAJJTS   AJCD   FAIRIES    OF    LIGHT. 

What  a  poem  is  that  gigantic  work  in  Sweden,  which 
unites  the  Baltic  with  the  Cattegat,  and  which  we  call  the 
Gotha  Canal,  the  "  blue  ribbon  of  Sweden ; "  what  a  poem, 
from  its  history  and  natural  scenery,  the  grandeur  of  its  design 
and  execution,  its  great  or  dehghtful  memories !  For  three 
hundred  years  have  the  kings  of  Sweden,  from  the  first  Gusta- 
vus  till  the  fourteenth  Charles,  assisted  by  the  genius  and 
the  great  men  of  the  country,  Barsk,  Polhem,  Swedenborg, 
Thunborg,  Platen,  striven  for  its  completion,  supported  by  the 
arms  and  the  money  of  the  people.  Opposed  by  natural  impedi- 
ments, and  by  all  kinds  of  difficulties,  after  great  adversities 
and  desolating  war,  amid  internal  discords,  after  great  losses, 
as  that  of  Finland,  have  the  rulers  and  the  nation  always  anew 
turned  themselves  to  this  internal  great  work,  and  have  begun 
together  to  labor  upon  it,  as  if  in  the  common  understanding 
that  it  was  in  the  internal  power  and  life  of  the  country  that 
the  nation  beheld  their  secure  support  and  the  hope  of  their 
future. 

What  a  poem  is  now  the  journey  from  the  town  of  Birger 
on  the  shores  of  the  Maler  Lake  and  the  billows  of  the  Baltic 
Sea  to  the  town  of  Gustaf  Adolph,  on  the  shores  of  the  Catte- 
gat, as  we  pass  on  the  waters  of  "  the  Blue  Ribbon  "  through 
the  interior  of  the  country,  where  primeval  mountains  open 
for  us,  thundering,  their  gates,  and  we  are  borne  up  on  invisi- 
ble arms,  higher  and  higher,  from  plateau  to  plateau,  till  we 
reach  at  length  the  uninhabited  primeval  forest,  the  bosom  of 
wild  mountain  lakes  then  silently  break  our  way  through  the 
bosom  of  the  rocks,  and  are  lowered  from  them  into  enchant- 


248  THE  FOUR  SISTERS. 

ing  lakes  which  we  had  just  seen  lying  like  Biirrors  far  below 
our  feet,  set  in  frames  of  fertile  country  gemmed  with  towers 
and  castles  and  cottages ;  then  speed  on  through  glorious 
parks,  whose  leafy  trees  familiarly  caress  us  in  passing  with 
their  green  boughs ;  then  emerge  into  a  wide,  Avild  coimtry, 
in  which  the  giants  of  nature  wrestle,  withovxt,  however,  dis- 
turbing  or  impeding  our  way — 

Wild  waters  down  the  cliffs  are  thundered; 

Rage  the  Gold  Island's  powers  unblest, 
But  genius  comes — the  rock  is  sundered, 

And  a  ship  lies  on  its  breast ! — 

and  thus  are  we  borne  by  the  mighty  arms  of  science  into  the 
bosom  of  the  loveliest  scenery,  and  out  uj^on  the  broad,  calm 
animated  waters  of  the  river  Gotha;  and  all  this,  whilst  a 
whole  world  of  ancient  memories  and  present  romance  accom- 
panies  us  on  the  journey  with  its  vala-song ;  its  battles ;  its 
rvmes,  its  ancient  saga,  legend  and  history ;  its  heroes'  graves 
and  landmarks  ;  giant-cauldrons  and  holy  wells ;  ancient  castles, 
ruins  and  so-called  convents, — with  here  and  there  some 
grand  or  tragic  memory, — or  the  erections  of  the  present  day 
in  factories  and  forts,  splendid  gentlemen's  seats  and  small  red 
cottages  beneath  the  shade  of  fir  trees,  all  in  perpetual  and 
ever-varying  change ;  a  wonderous  runic  song,  in  which  the 
wood-lady  and  the  statesman,  the  mountain  king  and  the 
beautiful  maiden,  the  water  fairy  and  the  queen,  fiction  and 
reality  contend  for  the  laurels  of  poesy  by  the  life-Uke  pictures 
which  they  present,  the  feelings  which  they  awaken. 

No  point,  diiring  the  whole  journey,  is  however  more 
remarkable  than  that  of  TroUhatta.  Thou  hast  left  the  heights 
and  the  mountain-lakes  behind  thee,  V/ettern  with  its  spires 
and  fertile  shores ;  thou  art  in  the  great  Wenner  lake,  into 
which  four-and-twenty  rivers  pour  their  waters  from  the  pro- 
vinces and  the  heights  around ;  thou  hast  left  at  a  distance  the 
fruitful  terraces  of  KinnekuUe,  and  beneath  the  gloomy  shadows 
of  Hunne  and  Halleberg  thou  advancest  into  the  forests  of 
"Westergylln.    The  waters  of  Wenner  swelled  by  the  four- 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS  249 

and-twenty  rivers  accomi^any  thee,  and  cast  themselves  clown 
the  moiintam  in  the  wild,  stormy  fall  of  Trollhatta.  But  thou 
art  at  peace  in  the  forest.  Thou  art  borne  silently  through 
its  pine-wood  parks  upon  the  granite  moimtaiu,  and  hearest 
merely  at  a  distance  the  thundering  contest  of  the  giants  of 
nature.  Thou  emergest  from  the  forest  just  where  the  foam- 
ing force  vnth  its  powerful  blue-green  mass  of  waters,  is  all 
at  once  changed  to  the  deep  broad  river,  which  between 
idyllian,  flowery,  and  pleasant  shores  hastens  towards  a  back- 
gromid  of  blue-grey,  distant,  billowy  mountains,  on  to  the 
sea. 

And  poets'  songs  are  in  his  praise  indited. 
And  ships  and  men  go  with  him  as  he  goes , 
As  guest  by  affluent  towns  he  is  invited ; 
And  fertile  fields  his  devious  path  enclose. 
But  they  detain  him  not ;  he  onward  hasteth ; 
The  gilded  tower,  the  fertile  meadows  by, 
He  hasteth  ever  onward,  till  he  casteth 
Himself  into  his  father's  arms  to  die. 

The  River  by  Tegxer. 

How  solemn,  at  the  same  time  earnest  and  agreeable,  is  the 
scenery  of  the  very  spot  where  this  transformation  takes  place, 
and  the  steamer  emerges  from  the  forest-covered  mountain  by 
two  arms  between  green  wooded  hills,  to  drop  down  into  the 
free  waters  of  the  river  !  What  a  contrast  is  this  peace  with 
the  wild  combat,  the  fall  and  the  locks  hard  by,  the  crags  and 
thefallofTroUhatta! 

Tlius,  once  upon  a  time,  stood  here,  beautiful  and  affec- 
tionate, Ogn  Alfafoster^  the  foster-child  of  Alferna,  when,  for 
her  sake,  Starkodder,  her  giant-lover,  wrestled  and  fought  a 
mortal  fight  beside  these  rocks,  Avith  her  betrothed  husband, 
Hergrim.  Yet  she  was  not  calm,  as  this  scenery,  for  she 
loved  not  the  human  wari-ior  who  conquered ;  she  loved 
Starkodder  the  giant,  and  attended  him  in  death. 

But  we  have  forgotten  ourselves  in  these  memories,  and  we 
now  return  to  the  poor  traveller,  whom  we  accompanied 


250  THE   FOUR   SISTEKS. 

hither,  and  who  was  scarcely  in  a  state  to  enjoy  the  scenes  ot 
which  we  have  spoken. 

The  morning  wind  blew  cold,  as  the  steam-boat  worked  her 
way  over  the  dancing  waters.  Silent  and  perturbed  in  mind^ 
Hertha,  wrapped  in  her  dark  grey  woollen  shawl,  seated  her- 
self and  watched  the  heaving  Avaters,  the  careering  clouds,  the 
flying  shores,  the  whirling,  beckoning  trees,  the  leaves  of 
which  were  already  tmted  with  the  frosts  of  the  autumnal 
nights,  and  which  seemed  to  be  wafting  to  her  their  farewells. 
Hour  after  hour  passed  on,  and  Hertha  sate  thus  immoveably. 
It  was  as  if  the  pulses  of  hfe  had  stopped  under  the  pressure 
of  a  convulsive  hand. 

By  degrees  several  gentlemen-passengers  emerged  from 
their  berths  below,  on  deck.  They  smoked  their  cigars,  spit 
about,  and  made  the  deck  filthy.  They  noticed  the  lady 
with  the  fine  figure  dressed  in  black,  and  her  immovability 
excited  their  jocular  remarks.  They  called  her  "  the  statue," 
and  began  to  wonder  whether  she  actually  were  flesh  and 
blood  ;  whether  she  had  the  power  of  motion,  could  talk,  and 
so  on.  A  sort  of  half-gentleman  detei-mined  to  make  the 
attempt  of  giving  life  to  the  statue. 

He  seated  himself  beside  her,  smoking  his  cigar,  every  puff 
fi'om  which  the  wind  blew  in  her  face.  She  turned  her  head 
mechanically  away. 

"  Aha  !"  thought  the  new  Pygmalion,  "  she  can  move.  Let 
me  now  see  whether  I  cannot  make  her  talk !"  And  he 
began,  between  two  puffs  of  cigar-smoke  : 

"  Very — fine  weather  to-day  ;"  puff,  puff,  "  but  rather 
cold ;"  puff 

IsTo  answer  from  the  statue ;  not  a  movement. 

Fresh  puffs  of  cigar-smoke,  spitting,  smoke,  puff,  and  a  fi-esh 
attempt : 

"  A  very  fine  view ; — don't  you  think  so  ? — Have  you  any 
commands  ?" 

The  statue  now  turned  her  head  and  looked  at  the  speakei-. 
He  drew  back  a  little,  and  looked  confused,  again  drew  back 
a  little,  returned  to  his  cigar,  spit,  hummed   a  tune,  and 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  251 

went  back  to  the  tobacco-smoking  group,  to  whom  he  whis- 
pered : 

"  She  is  certainly  mad.  She  looked  at  me  with  such  a 
glance,  I  was  really  frightened.  It  was  a  regular  Medusa, 
hu » 

"  A  very  well-grown  Medusa !"  said  a  tall,  elderly  gentle- 
man, with  a  connoisseur's  glance  at  Hertha,  "  and  not  so  ugly 
either  ;  though  she  is  just  now  in  a  bad  humor ;  she  might  let 
one  talk  to  her  when  she  is  in  a  better  temper." 

Many  gentlemen  and  ladies  were  now  on  deck,  and  the  seats 
were  all  occupied.  The  elderly  gentleman  seated  himself  by 
Hertha,  smoked  and  spat.  After  he  had  continued  to  do  this 
for  some  time,  he  said  a  few  words  to  her  in  an  imder-tone. 
She  made  no  reply ;  again  he  spoke,  and  this  time  Hertha 
rose  and  went  to  another  part  of  the  deck.  But  every  place 
was  occupied,  and  she  remained  standing  for  a  moment  as  if 
hesitating.  A  yoimg  man,  with  a  pair  of  earnest,  intellectual 
eyes,  rose  and  offered  her  his  seat.  She  accepted  it  gratefully. 
It  was  close  to  an  elderly  lady,  who  quickly  began  to  talk  to 
Hertha,  and  when  a  few  monosyllabic  words  gave  her  the  hope 
of  being  listened  to,  she  proceeded  to  give  an  account  of  her 
family,  the  purpose  of  her  journey,  her  course  of  life,  her 
state  of  health,  and  all  her  confinements.  She  also  inquired  if 
"  the  lady"  were  married  or  unmarried  ;  desired  to  know  her 
name,  and  informed  her  that  her  own  name  was  Tallquist. 

Hertha's  young  protector  went  below  deck,  but  soon  re- 
turned, with  a  little  printed  tract  in  his  hand,  which,  with  a 
polite  and  kind  expression,  he  offered  her.  The  tall  gentle- 
man now  stood  quite  near  Hertha,  blowing  great  puffs  from 
liis  cigar.  The  younger  stayed  also  near  her,  but  without  a 
cigar,  and,  while  he  seemed  wholly  occupied  in  looking  at  the 
scenery  through  his  glass,  he  thrust  himself  between  Hertha 
and  her  persecutor.  She  felt  that  she  had  a  protector  near 
her,  and  a  sense  of  gratitude  was,  therefore,  the  first  feeling 
which  she  experienced,  through  the  four-and-twenty  hours, 
which  was  not  painftil  to  her.  Apparently  hstening,  but,  in 
reality,  perfectly  deaf  to  the  old  lady's  account  of  her  life,  she 


252  THE  FOUR  SISTERS. 

sat  with  her  eyes  riveted  upon  the  tract  which  she  held  in  her 
hand.  By  degrees  some  words  attracted  her  eye,  and  she 
read  as  follows,  in  Danisli : 

"  To  be  agonised  as  I  am,  and  still  may  be,  is  certainly 
what  no  one,  humanly  speaking,  can  call  desu-able ;  neverthe- 
less, it  may  be  that  which,  in  a  much  higher  state,  I  may 
thank  God  for  as  the  greatest  benefit.  To  be  agonised  and 
brought  low,  even  for  a  noble  cause,  is,  I  can  very  well 
understand,  something  which  one,  humanly  speaking,  cannot 
desire,  something  which  one  would  wish  to  avoid  at  almost 
any  price,  if,  by  experience,  one  were  not  exalted  by  the 
thought,  that  in  a  far  higher  point  of  view,  this  extreme  of 
suffering  may  be  regarded  as  the  greatest  benefit." 

Hertha  turned  the  page  and  continued  to  read  : 

^^  April  11.  In  torments  which  a  human  being  has  seldom 
survived ;  in  agonies  of  mind  of  eight  days'  endurance,  which 
were  enough  to  deprive  the  mind  of  reason,  I  am  yet 
sufficiently 

"  My  wishes  have  often  been  for  death,  my  longings  for  the 
grave !  my  desire  that  my  wishes  and  my  longings  might  be 
fulfilled.  Yes,  O  God !  if  thou  wert  not  Almighty  ;  if  thou 
couldst  not  all-powerfiilly  compel;  if  thou  wert  not  love 
which  could  move  irresistibly ;  on  no  other  condition,  at  no 
other  price  could  I  be  induced  to  choose  the  life  which  is 
mine,  again  to  be  embittered  by  its  unavoidable  consequences, 
the  effect  which  mankind  produces  upon  me. 

"  Yet  thy  love,  O  God !  prompts  the  thought  of  daring  to 
love  thee,  inspires  me  under  the  possibility  of  being  all- 
powerfuUy  compelled — -joyfully  and  gratefully  to  desire  to 
become  that  which  is  the  consequence  of  being  loved  by  thee 
and  of  loving  thee  ;  a  sacrifice  offered  for  a  i-ace  to  whom  the 
ideal  is  a  foolishness,  a  nothing,  to  whom  the  earthly,  the 
temporal,  are  the  only  real." 

Hertha  did  not  inquire  by  whom  this  heart-rending  con- 
fession was  made  ;*  but  she  felt  that  a  combating  and  suffering 

•  S.  Kirkegaard,  in  his  laat  "  Moment" 


THE  FOUR   SISTERS.  253 

heart  throbbed  here  in  unison  with  her  own,  embittered,  bleed- 
ing, loving,  and  stUl,  though  as  in  the  midst  of  the  flr<.mes,  seek- 
ing to  lay  hold  upon  God ;  and  she  felt  less  solitary  in  the  world. 

When  the  steam-boat  reached  the  locks  of  Ti'ollhatta  and 
the  company  on  board  landed,  as  is  usual,  to  visit  the  fall, 
Hertha  mechanically  accompanied  them. 

Before  long,  however,  it  seemed  to  her  intolerable  to  make 
one  of  the  merry,  chattering  groups  of  people,  and  she 
dropped  behind  them  all.  As  she  was  thus  walking  sohtarily 
along  the  footpath,  through  the  wood,  she  observed  that  some 
one  was  follo^ving  her ;  presently  he  had  overtaken  and  joined 
her,  and  Hertha  recognised  her  persecutor  of  the  morning, 
who  now,  with  an  inquisitive  and  bold  glance,  s'^ized  her  hand, 
as  he  said : 

"  Why  are  you  walking  here  by  yourself;  you  who,  never- 
theless, seem  so  charming  ?" 

Hertha  snatched  away  her  hand,  and  looked  at  the  speaker 
with  a  glance  which  made  him  say : 

"  Bless  me !  there's  no  great  harm  done ;  and  surely  one 
may  speak  to  a  ghl  without  hei' " 

Hertha  looked  round  impatiently  for  some  of  her  travelling 
companions,  and  just  at  that  moment  saw  Mrs.  Tallquist 
coming  after  her,  puffing  and  out  of  breath,  calHng : 

"  Listen,  Mamsell !  Mamsell !  How  many  locks  are  there 
between  here  and  Stockholni?  Tallquist  and  I  have  laid 
a  wager  about  it ;  but  I  don't  know  precisely  whether  I  am 
right ;  I  want  to  hear  what  others  know  about  it,  and  Tall- 
quist is  in  full  chase  after  me." 

"  I  really  cannot  tell  you,"  replied  Hertha,  "  but  we  can 
very  soon  find  out,"  added  she,  anxious  to  have  Mrs.  Tall- 
quist's  company  until  she  fell  in  with  the  remainder  of  the 
party;  and  Mrs.  Tallquist  had  so  great  a  desire  to  com- 
mimicate  one  thing  and  another  to  her,  that  she  had  no  need 
of  asking  for  her  company,  especially  as  Mr.  Tallquist  now 
overtook  them,  still  more  out  of  breath,  and  still  more 
pantingly  than  his  wife,  but  by  no  means  in  so  good  a  humor 
because  of  her  unexpected  escapade  after  Hertha. 


254  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

"  I  only  wanted  to  ask  about  the  locks,"  said  Mrs.  Tallquist, 
"  and  to  know  which  of  us  was  right." 

"  The  devil  take  the  locks  !"  growled  Mr.  Tallquist. 

The  Tallquists,  Hertha,  and  her  unhidden  fellow-traveller, 
soon  reached  the  rest  of  the  company  now  assembled  on  the 
heights  above  the  Hell-falls,  and  just  about  to  continue  their 
way  to  the  lower  locks  at  Aker. 

When  at  this  latter  place  the  company  again  went  on  board 
to  continue  their  joui-ney,  Hertha  was  not  with  them.  The 
wild  thundering  falls,  the  solitary  region,  the  wood-covered 
mountains  around  them,  the  contest  between  the  giant  powers 
of  nature  and  the  strong  symboUc  language  in  which  they 
seemed  to  address  her,  attracted  her  to  them  with  a  congenial 
power.  It  seemed  good  to  her  to  rest  here  and  get  rid  of  the 
people ;  to  get  rid  of  the  familiarity  of  the  intrusive  gentleman 
and  the  communications  of  Mrs.  Tallquist. 

When  the  steamer  burst  forward  through  the  locks  of 
TroUhiitta  on  its  way  into  the  beautiful  river,  Hertha  was  sit- 
ting alone  on  Gull,  or  Gold  Island,  with  the  thundering  falls 
roaring  around  her,  and  the  words  of  Kirkegaard  in  her 
hand.  The  deafening  thunder  of  the  fall  seemed  to  her  a 
lullaby  which  would  hush  to  sleep  the  wild  combat  in  her 
breast,  and  for  the  moment  it  did  so.  When  evening  came, 
and  with  it  darkness,  she  went  to  the  Inn,  and  ordered  and 
obtained  for  nerself  a  room. 

She  passed  a  sleepless  night.  With  the  first  flush  of 
dawn  she  went  out.  She  wandered  from  the  falls  of  Toppo 
and  GuUo,  through  the  wood,  and  over  the  rocks,  down  to  the 
Hell-fall.  She  stopped  for  a  moment  at  the  Giant's  cauldrons 
in  the  primeval  rock,  only  to  recommence  her  wandering 
immediately,  from  the  necessity  of  allaying  the  torture  of  tlie 
soul  by  the  weariness  of  the  body,  and  to  gain  a  moment's 
forgetfulness  of  life  and  suffering — a  moment's  sleep.  But  all 
the  more  seemed  darkness  and  the  horrors  of  darkness  to  en- 
compass her  soul.  Energetic  natures  are  able  to  suffer  a  great 
deal  without  being  crushed  or  subdued  ;  nevertheless,  there  is 
a  state  in  which  they  have  g'-eat  difliculty  in  sustaining  them- 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  255 

selves.  It  is  that  in  which  sleep  deserts  them  and  gives  them 
up  a  prey  to  dark  phantoms  which  take  possession  of  their 
souls.  Sleeplessness,  which  converts  the  four-and-twenty 
hours  into  one  unbroken  day,  and  compels  the  dry,  hot  eyes 
to  stare  unchangingly  at  one  single  dark  point,  is  the  old  hag 
who  felled  Thor  to  the  ground  after  he  had  already  wrestled 
victoriously  with  gods  and  giants.  Suffering,  in  its  extremest 
form,  causes  to  us  the  loss  of  our  higher  consciousness,  our 
light  and  our  strength.  If  any  one  had  asked  the  restless 
wanderer  by  the  fall  of  TroUhatta,  at  this  time,  what  she  was 
seeking  for,  she  might  have  replied — "  Myself!" 

The  words  of  Kirkegaard  no  longer  consoled  her.  The 
spirit  which  spoke  to  her  in  them  was  too  much  absorbed  by 
the  combat,  had  not  yet  passed  victoriously  through  it.  In 
the  dark  tumultuous  state  of  mind  in  which  she  then  was,  she 
threw  the  printed  tract  into  the  foaming  waters.  It  whirled 
round  for  a  moment,  sank,  and  vanished  from  sight.  How 
beautiful  to  sink  thus,  to  vanish  in  the  cool  depths,  and  forget, 
and  rest ; — the  thundering,  whirling  waters  would  be  heai'd 
there  no  longer  ! 

"  Yngve  !  Yngve  !  How  is  it  possible !"  was  the  dark 
unceasing  thought  in  Hertha's  soul,  which  lay  there  as  the 
coil  of  a  serpent.  And  truth  and  love,  abhorrence  and  scoi*n, 
alternately  attempted  to  unfold  it — in  vain.  Her  thoughts 
began  to  be  confused,  and  she  dreaded  insanity. 

There  stands  on  Gull  Island  a  solitary  blackened  pine-tree, 
which  with  its  crown  of  wild,  distorted  branches,  hangs  over 
the  abyss,  as  if  it  would  tumble  into  it,  a  strange  demoniac 
figure,  which  calls  forth  dark  thoughts,  and  seems  to  be  the 
offspring  of  such.  Did  it  spring  up  in  the  foot-pi'ints  of  the 
beautiful  giant-bride  who  once  stood  there,  and  hurled  herself 
into  the  abyss  to  escape  the  misery  of  life  ? 

The  dark  figure  riveted  Hertha's  gaze  with  giant  power. 
It  pointed  into  the  abyss  below,  and  seemed  to  say,  "  Down 
there  !  down  there  !"  It  was  a  moment  when  everything 
appeared  dark  to  her.  But  there  came  a  caressing  breeze 
and  fanned  her  burning  temples,  and  made  a  murmur  among 


256  THE   FOrU   SISTERS. 

the  pine-trees  of  the  rock,     Hertha  seemed  to  feel  the  caresses 
of  her  young  sisters,  and  to  hear  their  words  : 

"  Do  not  forsake  us  !" 

And  she  tui-ned  away  from  the  tempting  falls,  determined 
to  make  every  jx)ssible  effort  to  gain  a  few  hours'  sleep,  and 
by  that  means  to  clear  her  mind.  She  obtained  for  herself  a 
soporific  draught  from  the  medical  man  at  TroUhatta ;  but  it 
afforded  her  no  repose,  only  a  trance  fuU  of  fever-phantasies. 

She  was  in  a  church  at  the  hour  of  midnight ;  the  full 
moon  shining  solemnly  amid  dark,  threatening  clouds,  was 
visible  through  the  chancel  window.  Silent  human  figures 
sate  like  shadows  in  the  chancel,  and  at  the  farther  end  stood, 
against  a  dark  background,  a  lofty,  golden  crucifix,  which 
shed  a  pale  gleam  of  fight  through  the  chancel. 

The  organ  pealed,  and  a  voice  sang — 

"  O  Lamb  of  God,  which  takest  away  the  sins  of  the 
world !" 

With  that,  the  shadow-like  forms  advanced  to  the  altar  and 
knelt  there.  Hertha,  impelled  irresistibly,  accompanied  them, 
and  partook  of  "  the  body  and  blood  of  Christ,"  with  the 
rest. 

She  then  turned  to  leave  the  church  and  went  to  Yngve  ; 
she  saw  him  lying  in  his  morning  slumber,  handsome  and 
smiling,  on  his  bed.  But  she  awoke  him,  and  said  to  him 
with  sorrowful  earnestness : 

"  Yngve  !  thou  hast  lied  before  heaven  and  before  me,  and 
thou  must  now  die.  But  I  have  sanctified  my  lips  by  the 
blood  which  can  make  thee  pure,  and  I  am  come  to  sanctify 
thee !" 

And  she  bent  over  him  and  kissed  him.  With  that 
Yngve's  red  lips  grew  pale,  and  a  marble  rigidity  crept  over 
his  features  and  his  limbs.  He  gazed  at  her  with  a  reproach- 
ful and  yet  affectionate  gaze,  until  it  was  set  as  in  stone. 
She  closed  his  eyelids,  and  he  was  dead,  and  with  him  all  her 
joy  in  life. 


titt:  yavn  sts-tf.p.^;.  251 

She  saw  another  world,  a  wonderful  kingdom  of  death  and 
Bilence.  There  was  a  great  city  with  gates  and  streets  and  a 
market,  but  of  graves,  and  monuments  he^vn  in  stone.  Xot 
a  tree,  not  a  flower,  not  a  blade  of  grass  was  to  be  seen 
among  them,  A  starless,  steel-grey  sky  expanded  itself  over 
the  graves,  over  the  city  of  the  dead,  wliich  seemed  to  ex- 
pand into  infinitude,  over  the  whole  earth.  Deep  twihght 
I'ested  there,  and  not  a  sound,  not  a  tone  of  life  was  heard, 
except  a  soft  soughing  which  sometunes  raised  itself,  then 
sank  and  died  away  like  deep  beseeching  sighs. 

When  Hertha's  eye  became  accustomed  to  the  deep 
twilight  which  prevailed,  she  saw  human  forms  by  many  of 
the  monuments  which  lay  there  in  prayer,  and  again  and 
again  laid  their  hps  to  the  walls  of  the  graves.  They  seemed 
in  the  mean  time  to  be  exjDecting  something.  Hertha  also 
stood  by  a  monument,  a  single  column,  which  she  embraced 
with  her  arms  and  held  clasped  to  her  breast,  and  she  very 
well  knew  who  lay  below,  and  why  her  warm  heart  throbbed 
against  the  hard  stone.  Thus  passed  on  many,  many  years, 
and  many  of  the  supplicating  ones  by  the  graves  grew  weary 
and  left  their  posts,  to  return  to  the  cities  and  the  pleasures 
of  Hfe.  But  Hertha  did  not  grow  weary,  but  stood  faithfully 
with  her  warm  heart  beating  against  the  hard  granite  stone, 
wishing  for  the  moment  when  they  who  are  in  the  graves 
shall  hear  the  voice  of  God, 

Suddenly  a  light  blazed  in  the  east,  and  a  strong  voice  cried 
aloud,  "  The  moment  is  come !"  and  the  earth  trembled  and 
the  graves  opened.  The  column  which  Hertha  embraced 
moved,  and  she  felt  that  a  heart  was  throbbing  against  her 
heart.  She  held  Yngve  in  her  arms,  and  he  opened  his  eyes ; 
but  oh,  what  a  gloomy  earnestness  in  his  look  as  he  said — 

"  Why  hast  thou  woke  me — only  to  lead  me  to  judgment  ?" 

Hertha  replied :  "  I  have  won  thee  from  judgment, 
Yngve,  won  thee,  by  watching  and  many  prayers.  Only 
canst  thou  love  me?  Remember  our  bond,  and  speak  the 
ti-uth !" 

Yngve's  eyes  turned  away  from  hers  and  gazed  in  another 


258  THE  Fom  sisters. 

direction,  at  a  shadowy  form  which  stood  near,  as  if  waiting 
for  him,  and  which  bore  the  features  of  Amalia.  Hertha  at 
this  felt  her  heart  contracted  by  an  unspeakable  pain,  and 
soon  she  again  saw  herself  alone,  wandering  like  a  shadow 
among  the  graves  in  the  kingdom  of  the  dead. 

Such,  and  many  more,  were  the  delirious  dreams  amid 
which  Hertha's  soul  sought  for  some  point  upon  which  it 
could  rest. 

One  morning,  after  a  dream  kindred  to  the  foregoing,  she 
rose  and  wandered  into  the  country,  in  a  direction  opposite  to 
the  fall,  the  thunder  of  which  now  began  to  be  a  torment  to 
her.  She  heard  the  bells  ringing  for  church,  and  saw  the 
country  people  going  churchward  in  their  holiday  attire, 
whence  she  perceived  that  it  was  Sunday.  She  followed 
them  to  a  little  country  church,  at  the  outskirts  of  the  forest. 
It  was  a  simple,  but  tastefully  built  stone  church,  with  a 
spacious  chancel,  at  the  far  end  of  which  stood  a  tall,  gilded 
crucifix,  which  shone  out  brightly  from  the  dark  background. 
It  resembled  that  which  she  had  seen  in  her  dream.  She 
stood  stUl,  The  peasants,  in  the  costume  of  the  country, 
filled  the  church.  The  clergyman  went  to  the  altar.  Hertha 
could  not  follow  every  word  which  he  said,  she  merely  imder- 
stood  that  he  invited  all  to  come  to  a  holy — a  consolatory 
communion.  And  when  the  hymn  was  sung,  "  O  Lamb  of 
God,"  and  the  congregation  rose  and  advanced  to  the  altar, 
Hertha  accompanied  them,  and  bowed  her  weary  head  at 
the  foot  of  the  cross. 

The  peacefulness  of  the  church,  the  mystical  words  which 
were  uttered  by  the  priest, the  mild,  earnest  countenances  which 
surrounded  her,  among  which  many  were  elderly,  some  blind, 
the  sight  of  the  cross,  the  thought  of  him  whose  ty[3e  it  was, 
all  operated  forcibly  on  Hertha's  soul ;  and  when  the  clergy- 
man approached  her  and  looked  at  her  vnih  an  astonished  and 
hesitating  glance,  which  she  returned  by  an  expression  of  so 
much  sufiering  and  so  earnest  a  desu-e,  he  could  not  refuse  her 
the  holy  Communion,  to  which,  however,  according  to  the 
Swedish  ecclesiastical  laws,  she  was  not  entitled,  as  her  name 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  259 

had  not  been  announced  for  that  purpose,  nor  had  she  been 
present  at  confession.  But  he  invokmtarily  obeyed  the  inspi- 
ration of  the  moment,  certain  that  he  had  now  before  him  a 
human  being  who  needed  the  means  of  grace.  Hertha  receiv- 
ed them,  bowed  her  head,  and — ^her  tears  flowed  apace. 

A  lofty  and  glorious  form  stepped  between  her  and  the 
beloved  but  guilty  man,  who  caused  her  anguish ;  stepped 
between  her  and  the  whole  world,  which  now  vanished  from 
before  her  eyes.  At  His  heart,  at  His  feet,  she  laid  herself 
down,  her  life,  her  sorrow,  her  beloved,  his  sin  ;  his  and  her 
own  life,  everything,  in  deep  and  perfect  resignation,  and  she 
felt  herself  to  be  saved.  Like  the  fainting  wanderer  of  the 
desert,  she  laid  herself  down  at  the  margin  of  the  fresh  foun- 
tain, and  drank  in  new  life. 

Silent  festival !  Who  can  tell  the  hidden  miracles  of  salva- 
tion which,  ever  since  the  hour  of  thy  institution,  thou  hast 
performed,  and  stUl  performest.  The  forms  of  religion  may 
vary,  churches  become  antiquated  and  changed,  generations 
come  and  go,  but  thou,  silent,  mystical  festival,  still  remainest, 
always  the  same,  gathering  together  the  scattered  flocks,  feed- 
ing the  souls  with  the  same  body  and  the  same  blood  ;  and  all 
the  mysteries  of  existence  centre  in  thee  and  beam  forth  from 
thee.  Silent,  sacred  festival,  communion  of  all  sects,  mystical 
bond  of  soul  with  soul  and  of  all  with  the  One  ;  preserver  of 
the  life  of  love,  in  a  world  which  is  poor  in  love,  yet  which 
requireth  love ;  preserver  of  hope ;  nurse  of  the  community 
of  heaven,  so  long  as  thou  art  administered  in  the  church,  or 
thence  sent  out  to  the  chambers  of  the  sufiering,  so  long  still 
lives  therein  the  life  and  power  of  Christ ;  and  if  I,  as  well  as 
many  others,  look  with  longing  towards  a  Church  of  the  fu- 
ture more  true  and  more  active  than  that  which  now,  in  our 
north,  rules  the  consciences  of  men,  it  is  because  they  then  may 
more  generally,  more  inwardly,  come  to  thee  and  partake  of 
thy  fulness,  silent,  holy  festival,  fountain  of  life  ! 

When  Hertha  wandered  back  through  the  soughing  pme- 
forest  towards  the  fall,  she  felt  that  everything  was  not  lost,  that 
One  remained  immoveable,  firm,  and  steadfast ;  one  whom  she 


260  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

might  love  and  look  up  to,  and  attach  herself  to  with  all  her 
soul  and  all  her  might — the  Shepherd  and  the  Friend  of  every 
soul.  The  falling  waters,  the  roaring  storm,  all  the  disquiet  of 
human  life,  they  had  then-  time  and  thek  termination,  but 
He  remamed  for  ever.  They  were  the  means,  not  the  end, 
because  He  was  there,  and  she  had  been  made  cognisant  of  his 
presence,  his  life.  In  the  world  was  strife,  but  in  Him  she 
could  have  peace,  that  she  clearly  felt.  A  calm,  lofty,  lovefiil 
resignation  possessed  her  soul,  together  with  a  grateful  joy 
over  the  change  which  she  experienced,  and  the  experience 
which  was  her  portion. 

Such  an  experience  is  of  inestimable  worth  for  the  whole  of 
life,  and  gives  to  the  soul  a  certainty  of  the  being  of  God,  and 
of  his  immediate  relationship  to  her,  which  nothing  is  ever- 
more able  to  shake. 

And  either  He  lifts  the  soul  up  to  his  heart  and  lets  her 
taste  of  the  joy  which  no  tongue  can  express,  or  bends  her  to 
the  earth,  as  the  winds  the  reeds  of  the  shore,  so  that  she  is 
satisfied  that  He  is  with  her  and  that  He  is  love.  In  the  deep- 
est mnter's  niffht  this  is  her  lio^ht. 

Such  were  Hertha's  thoughts  as  she  went  homewai-d  through 
the  solitary  wood,  and  in  that  light  which  now  shone  into  her 
soul  all  the  dark  enigmas  of  life  seemed  cleared  up.  Even  the 
confused,  distorted  image  of  Yngve  became  transfigured.  Was 
it  not  the  doctrine  which  she  heard  from  his  Ups,  and  which 
now  she  comprehended  with  a  new  feehng  of  its  truth  ?  Could 
he  indeed  be  false — be  a  Uar  ?  Must  not  aU  be  a  Ue  rather 
than  this  be  true  ?  Hertha  came  hastily  to  the  determination 
to  put  the  question  to  himself,  and  let  the  truth  be  judge  be- 
tween them.  Fii-st,  however,  she  must  see  Rudolph.  She 
now  felt  herself  in  a  condition  to  benefit  him ;  and  again  serene 
and  determined,  she  resolved  on  the  following  day  to  continue 
her  journey  to  Copenhagen.  She  merely  required  a  night's 
rest.     It  was  now  the  seventh  night  since  she  had  slept. 

This  night  she  slept  deeply  and  soundly.  But  the  struggle 
of  the  soul  re-acted  on  the  body,  and  she  awoke  in  the  morn- 
ing with  a  terrible  headache.      She  sent  for  the  medical  man 


THE  FOUR  sisxr.RS.  2G1 

of  the  place,  and  asked  from  him  a  copious  blood-letting.  It 
was  with  a  sort  of  bitter  pleasure  that  she  watched  the  blood 
flow  imtil  she  nearly  fainted.  Could  she  but,  with  the  whole 
of  her  blood,  have  purchased  Yngve's  fi-eedom  from  blame ! 
After  the  blood-letting  and  a  sedative  draught,  Hertha  remain- 
ed lying  comparatively  free  from  pain.  Thus  she  lay  for  the 
Av^hole  day  with  her  eyes  closed,  and  only  now  and  then  a  tear 
which  slowly  forced  its  way  through  her  dark  eye-lashes  down 
her  pale  cheeks,  made  known  the  silent  sorrow  of  her  soul. 

Thus  was  she  still  lying  in  the  evening,  when  she  heard  the 
door  open  and  some  one  softly  enter  the  room ;  but  in  tl^e 
behef  that  it  was  one  of  the  maid-servants  of  the  house,  who 
had  promised  to  look  after  her,  she  continued  to  lie  still  with 
her  eyes  closed.  She  then  felt  a  warm  kiss  impressed  upon 
her  hand,  which  was  at  the  same  time  bathed  with  tears.  Her- 
tha opened  her  eyes,  and  beheld  a  lovely  young  girl  on  her 
knees,  by  her  bed,  watching  her  with  an  expression  of  the 
most  heartfelt  love : 

"  Oh,  pardon  me!  pardon  me!"  besought  at-  the  same  time 
the  sweet  voice  of  Eva  Dufva,  "  and  don't  send  me  away.  I 
heard  that  some  one,  who  appeared  very  ill  and  out  r[  spirits, 
lay  here,  and  I  ^vished  to  know  if  I  could  be  of  any  service  to 
her,  because  I  myself  also  am  sorrowful  and  sick  at  heart. 
But  now  that  I  recognise  you  I  cannot  leave  you.  Oh,  let  me 
remain  with  you  till  you  are  well  again.  Let  me  be  like  a 
sister  to  you,  or  a  servant.  Who  knows,  perhaps  the  insigni- 
ficant and  the  weak  may  be  of  some  Uttle  service  to  the  strong. 
That  would  be  so  agreeable  to  me.  I  will  be  so  silent,  so  very 
silent ;  but  I  cannot  leave  you.  It  will  do  me  more  good  to 
be  with  you  than  anything  else." 

"  How  did  you  come  here?  "  asked  Hertha,  as  she  caress- 
ingly laid  her  hand  on  the  young  girl's  neck. 

"With  my  parents,"  replied  Eva;  "we  are  on  our  A^•a^•  to 
Copenhagen,  where  my  father  has  business,  and  they  iiave 
allowed  me  and  my  sister  Marie  to  accompany  them,  to  di.L'i-t 
my  mmd  and  to  enliven  me,  as  they  say.  For  I  have  oc.n, 
and  still  am,  very  uneasy  in  my  mind  ever  since — but  I  will 


2€2  TlIK    FOUR    S1STER8. 

tell  you  all  about  that  afterwards ;  if  I  only  may  remain  with 
you.  You  will  dissipate  the  uncertainty  of  my  mind ;  you 
will  enable  me  to  become  clear  as  regards  myself  and  Avhat 
I  ought  to  do  ;  no  one  can  do  this  if  you  cannot.  Oh,  let  me 
stay  with  you !  I  would  give  up  everything  in  Copenhagen, 
if  I  might  only  remain  here  by  your  bedside.  Sister  Marie 
can  go  with  my  parents  to  Copenhagen." 

"  Ask  your  mother  to  let  me  speak  with  her,"  said  Her- 
tha;  and  Eva,  who  heard  a  consent  in  the  words,  kissed 
Hertha's  hand  passionately,  and  hastened  to  her  mother. 

It  was  soon  arranged  between  Mrs.  Dufva  and  Hertha,  that 
Eva  should  remain  with  the  latter  itntil  she  was  sufficiently 
recovered  to  be  able  to  cross  the  Sound,  when  Eva  should 
accompany  her  and  join  her  parents  in  Copenhagen.  Hertha 
had  told  Mrs.  Dufva  of  her  intentions  of  Adsiting  an  invalid 
relative  m  that  city ;  and  Hertha,  although  not  properly 
belonging  to  the  circle  of  their  acquaintance,  was  universally  so 
highly  esteemed  and  respected,  that  Mrs.  Dufva,  Avithout 
demur  or  deliberation,  left  Eva  under  her  protection. 

Eva  Dufva  was  overjoyed  at  this  arrangement.  She  was  at 
that  agv"^  Avhen  it  is  so  common  for  warm-hearted  girls  to  form 
enthusiasu'c  attachments  to  persons  of  their  own  sex,  particu- 
larly when  these  are  distinguished  by  a  force  of  character  in 
which  they  themselves  are  deficient,  and  Eva  Dufva  had  long 
since  felt  that  attraction  towards  Hertha  which  the  weak 
climbing  plant  feels  towards  the  strong  tree,  around  whose 
bole  it  is  necessary  to  entwine  itself  in  order  to  raise  itself  to 
the  light. 

The  little  chamber,  by  the  fall  of  Trollhiitta,  which  during 
the  foregoing  four-and-twenty  hours  had  witnessed  such 
gloomy  suffering,  exhibited  this  evening  a  pleasant  picture. 

It  was  the  pale  invalid,  who,  now  evidently  convalescent, 
was  sitting  raised  uj)  in  bed,  with  her  rich  golden  hair  thrown 
back  from  her  temples,  and  falling  in  unrestrained  masses  over 
the  snowy  pillows,  whilst  her  eyes,  still  weak  from  the  effect 
of  fever,  rested  with  motherly  affection  on  the  young  girl  who, 
kneeling  by  her  bed,  held  her  hand  between  both  hers,  now 


THE    FOUR    SISTEUS.  263 

pressing  it  to  her  lips,  now  laying  it  against  her  burning 
cheeks,  whilst  she  poured  out  her  overflowing  heart. 

Eva  related  how  she,  in  consequence  of  Mr.  Von  Tackjern's 
behavior  at  the  fire,  felt  the  repugnance  which  she  had 
always  entertained  towards  a  marriage  with  him  so  increase, 
that  the  thought  of  it  became  intolerable  to  her ;  and  how  she 
had  prevailed  upon  her  parents  to  consent  to  the  engagement 
between  them  being  broken  off.  In  the  meantime,  the  circum- 
stances of  the  family,  in  consequence  of  the  fire  and  other  losses, 
became  greatly  embarrassed.  She  saw  the  distress  of  her 
parents,  and  their  evident  wish  that  the  engagement  between 
their  daughter  and  the  wealthy  Mr.  Von  Tackjern  should  be 
renewed.  He,  on  his  part,  had  expressed  his  willingness  ;  he 
considered  her  having  broken  their  betrothal  as  merely  a 
usual  "  woman's  whim,"  which  he  was  willing  to  forgive,  and 
proposed  that  the  naarriage  should  at  once  take  place,  to 
obviate  the  necessity  of  a  second  betrothal. 

"  And  now  I  know  what  lies  before  me,"  contmued  Eva ; 
"  after  this  journey,  which  is  to  '  dissipate  my  crotchets,'  they 
wiU  urge  me  to  make  an  end  of  the  thing.  My  parents  wiU 
say  that  '  I  can  do  as  I  like  ;  that  they  do  not  wish  to  persuade 
me  ; '  but  they  will  look  anxious ;  I  shall  read  in  their  looks 
and  their  expression  what  they  wish  for ;  I  shall  see  how  easy 
I  might  make  theirs  and  my  sisters'  future  by  my  marriage  ; 
so  that  I  should  be  able  to  please  everybody,  and  make  every- 
body hajjpy  excejDt — myself  But  is  it  right  in  me  to  regard 
only  my  own  happiness  ?  To  disaj^point  every  one  'just  for 
the  sake  of  my  own  pleasure  ?  '  Is  not  that  wrong  and  ego- 
tistical ?  Ah !  I  have  gone  from  church  to  church  that  I 
might  meet  with  counsel  and  light ;  but  they  have  preached 
about  submission  and  obedience,  which,  nevertheless,  my 
heart  rebelled  against,  because  I  do  not  know  whether,  in  this 
case,  it  is  the  will  of  God.  If  I  could  only  know  it !  I  have 
prayed  to  God  for  light,  early  and  late,  and  yet — and  yet 
no  light  has  come  into  my  poor  mind,  and  it  has  put  me  out 
of  heart,  and — sometimes  I  have  felt  indifferent  about  myself 
and  everything  else  in  the  world,  so  that  I  could  have  thrown 


2G4  THE   FOrR   SISTERS, 

myself  away,  seeing  that  God  did  not  trouble  himself  about 
me.  Ah !  that  was,  after  all,  a  sinful  thought,  ff>r  he  has 
indeed  led  me  hither  to  you,  and  you,  I  know,  will  teach  and 
enlighten  me." 

Hsrtha  had  allowed  the  young  gu-1  to  pour  out  her  wholo 
lieart ;  she  then  said : 

"  Have  you  not  sometimes  thought  that  you  might  become 
a  mother  in  this  marriage  ?  " 

"  No,"  replied  Eva  ;  "  at  lenst  I  have  not  liked  to  dwell  on 
the  thought.     Hu !  no !  " 

"It  is,  nevertheless,  the  only  one  which  could  give  you 
light  on  your  way,"  said  Hertha.  "  If  you  would  choose  a 
father  as  guide  and  coimsellor  for  your  child,  would  you 
choose  Mr.  Von  Tackjern  ?  " 

"  'No  !  "  said  Eva  with  decision.    "  ISTo :  that  I  never  would  !  " 

"  Do  you  think  that  he  might  become  different ;  that  he 
might  be  changed  through  your  influence  ?  " 

"  Ah !  "  sighed  Eva,  "  that  is  what  people  have  said  to  me, 
but  I  do  not  believe  it.  He  is  so  much  older — so  much 
more  worldly-wise — so  much  stronger  of  will  than  I  am.  I 
should  never  have  courage  to  be  entii-ely  myself  with  him  ;  to 
ask  anything  from  him,  I  should,  if  united  with  him,  become 
less  candid,  less  cheerful  than  T  am  now.  I  fancy  even  that 
I  might  become  cunning  T^dth  him  ,  because  I  am  afraid  of  him. 
I  ■would  not  like  to  depend  upon  him  ;  not  be  his  son  or  his 
daughter ! " 

••'  Then  do  not  become  his  ■wife,"  said  Hertha  with  great 
de-jision,  as  she  laid  her  hand  on  the  young  girl's  head, 
"  otherwise  you  will  sin  against  God  and  against  the  vocation 
of  mother,  Avhich  He  might  give  you,  to  watch  over  the  well- 
bemg  of  the  children  which  might  be  born  of  this  marriage. 
Ah,  Eva  !  I  wonder  every  day  how  people  in  a  general  way, 
Avhether  in  or  out  of  marriage,  can  so  thoughtlessly  bring  into 
existence — that  great,  bitter,  awful  existence,  of  Avhich  heaven 
or  hell  is  the  point  of  exit — childreu,  human  beings,  ■with 
immortal  souls,  which  are  capable  of  so  much  suffering,  so  much 
despair,  and  which  one  day  may  reproach  the  author  of  their 


THE   FOUil   SISTERS.  265 

"being  for  having  called  them  into  existence !  It  is  especially 
to  the  maternal  heart  of  the  woman  that  the  Creator  has 
intrusted  the  responsibility  and  the  care  of  the  children  to 
which  she  may  give  birth ;  and  yet  how  seldom  does  she  reflect 
on  this  M^hen  she  is  about  to  give  herself  to  a  husband  !  Eva ! 
this  is  my  last  word  to  you  on  this  subject — never  marry  a 
man  whose  daughter  you  would  not  hke  to  be  !  " 

"  Hertha!  "  exclaimed  Eva,  "you  hove  lifted  a  stone  from 
my  heart ;  you  have  removed  the  bandage  from  my  eyes,  and 
I  now  see  everything  clearly !     Oh,  you  are  right !  you  are 

right !  and  it  is  God  who  has  led  me  to  you,  because But, 

Hertha,  do  not  abandon  me  after  this,  for  I  shall  stand  in 
need  of  your  support  and  your  advice.  My  parents  are  kind — • 
very  kind.  But  they  fancy  that  a  gui  must  either  marry  or 
stop  at  home,  occupied  by  her  pretty  '  ladies-work,'  and  that 
she  ought  not  to  undertake  anything  but  the  care  of  her  toilet 
or  making  calls ;  and  that  has  never  been  sufficient  for  me, 
and  it  will  become  less  sufficing  after  this.  There  are  many 
of  us  at  home  ;  we  are  not  all  needed  there,  and  I  must  now, 
of  necessity,  leave  home  for  a  time.  If  I  could  only  undertake 
something  which  would  be  helpful  to  ray  parents  and  my 
sisters ! — but  then  I  am  so  ignorant ;  know  a  little  of  many 
things  superficially,  but  nothing  thoroughly.  Nevertheless,  I 
would  so  vrillingiy  work — work  really  hard  at  anything — if 
I  could  only  reap  some  benefit  by  it,  and  come  out  of  that 
state  of  uncertainty  and  incompleteness  which  is  at  present  the 
state  of  my  mind  and  the  state  of  my  home-life.  I  go  about, 
as  it  were,  in  twihght :  I  don't  know  Avhat  I  am,  nor  what  I 
may  be.  I  am  seeking  for  myself.  I  am  like  a  field  lying 
fallow,  but  which  might  become  fruitful  by  the  hand  of  the 
cultivator." 

The  longer  Eva  continued  thus  to  speak,  the  more  Hertha's 
glance  beamed  on  the  young  girl ;  she  raised  her  head, 
assumed  once  more  the  expression  of  self-consciousness,  power, 
and  resolve  which  were  peculiar  to  her,  and  her  earnest  gaze 
penetrated  with  tender  inquiry  into  the  yoimg  girl's  soul 
which  had  thus  revealed  itself  to  her. 


266  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

"I  understand  you,"  she  said,  " and  what  you  say  rejoices 
me.  For  us  women  a  great  deal  of  the  field  of  life  lies  falloAVj 
and  men  would  prevent  us  from  bringing  it  up  into  cultiva- 
tion. But  a  clear  and  steadfast  will  is  able  to  break  through 
many  impediments.  Do  you  feel  in  your  soul  any  longings 
after  a  larger,  more  general  activity,  in  any  particular  direc- 
tion ?'' 

"  No,  I  do  not,"  replied  Eva.  "  I  dread  publicity,  and  fear 
my  own  incapacity  to  work  independently.  But  I  should  be 
glad  to  devote  my  small  activity,  my  sinall  abiUty  in  life,  to 
some  object  which  I  felt  to  be  great  and  noble,  worthy  of 
living  and  laboring  for.  And  I  would  gladly  clasp  a  poor 
child  to  my  heart,  and  live  and  labor  for  it.  That  would 
make  me  happy.  I  should  not  be  afraid  of  poverty  with  that 
child.  I  should  be  able  to  provide  a  frugal  living  for  it,  and 
for  myself.  That  has  been  and  is  my  dearest  dream  for  the 
future.  But  first  I  will  become  a  better,  clearer,  stronger 
human  being  than  I  now  am,  and  therefore  let  me  love  you, 
see  you,  come  to  you  sometimes,  look  up  to  you.  It  is  so 
beautiful,  so  glorious,  to  be  able  to  look  up,  love,  admire  !" 

"Ah!  do  not  look  up  to  a  fellow-creature,  your  equal!" 
said  Hertha,  with  a  deep  and  sorrowful  earnestness.  "  You 
will,  in  that  case,  find  yourself  deceived ;  look  up  to  God 
alone !  This  cannot  be  too  often  insisted  upon ;  human 
beings  are  weak ;  the  best  are  imperfect,  and  true,  bitterly 
true,  is  our  old  proverb,  '  Trust  not  m  that  which  another 
holds  for  you !" 

There  was  such  a  sad  earnestness  in  Hertha's  expression, 
Avhilst  she  continued  to  warn  Eva  of  too  much  trust  in  or 
dependence  on  another,  that  Eva  was  profoundly  im^jressed 
by  it.     But  she  said,  still  caressingly  : 

"  You  will  really  trust  in  me  and  my  attachment  to  you. 
I  know  that  I  could  die  for  you.  They  who  love  you  once, 
must  love  you  for  ever,  and  become  more  earnest  and  better 
in  consequence.  I  do  not  wish, — I  am  not  worthy  to  know 
what  is  the  reason  of  your  thinking  so  ill  of  mankind  ;  but 
certainly  you  have  sufiered,  and  suffering  darkens  the  mind, 


THE    I'OUR    SISTERS.  26t 

and  causes  it,  perhaps,  not  always  to  jiidge  correctly. 
Forgive  me  for  venturing  to  talk  thus  to  you,  but — I  am  so 
very  found  of  you,  and  it  grieves  me  so  sadly  that  you  should 
feel  thus." 

And  Eva  covered  Hertha's  hand  with  her  kisses  and  her  tears. 

In  the  old  Saga  of  Gudi-um,  who  sate  by  the  corpse  of 
Sigurd,  but  could  not  weep  Hke  other  women,  because  she 
"  will  merely  die,"    it  is  said  how — 

the  noble 

Earl-daughters, 
Gold-ornamented, 
Sate  before  Gudrun; 
Each  one  related 
Her  bitterest  sorrow, 
That  which  the  sorest 
Her  heart  had  afflicted. 

At  length  the  mourner  was  so  far  consoled,  that  she  burst 
into  tears  and  song. 

Thus  is  individual  sorrow  alleviated  by  sympathy  for 
another.  Thus  also  now  were  the  sufferings  of  the  two  young 
women  alleviated  by  the  deep  sympathy  which  each  felt  for 
the  other. 

Soon  might  Eva  be  seen,  with  a  mind  much  calmer  than  of 
late,  graceftiUy  and  silently  busied,  and  setting  out  a  little 
supper  for  Hertha,  and  seeming  to  forget  herself  in  serving 
her  ;  whilst  Hertha  allowed  herself,  with  a  quiet  resignation, 
to  be  waited  upon,  and  even  received  with  a  smile,  bread  and 
a  glass  of  milk  from  her  hand.  And  when,  later  in  the 
evening,  Eva  read  aloud  to  her,  Hertha  fixed  her  eyes  on  the 
innocent  countenance  of  the  charming  girl,  as  it  was  lit  up  by 
the  lamplight,  and  sank  into  a  dim  dream  about  faith  and 
love  upon  earth.  During  this,  she  feU  into  a  calm  sleep  ;  and 
after  Eva  had  continued  to  read  for  a  good  half-hour,  in  order 
to  deepen  her  sleep  still  more,  she  made  herself  a  little  bed  at 
the  foot  of  S[ertha's,  and  rested  there  better  than  she  had 
done  for  a  long  time — the  good  young  girl ! 


268  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

The  following  day  Hertha  felt  herself  very  much  better. 
She  wrote  home  to  her  father  and  sisters,  fixing  the  day  for 
her  return,  and  the  day  following,  with  Eva  Dufva  crossed 
the  Kattegatt  to  Copenhagen,  where  she  restored  the  young 
girl  to  her  family — not  Avithout  having  formed  a  close 
compact  with  her  for  the  future — and  then  went  to  seek  out 
Rudolph. 

Well  was  it  that  she  came  to  him  at  this  moment !  The 
unfortunate  young  man,  pursued  by  unspeakable  mental 
disquiet,  by  the  horrible  memories  of  the  night  of  the  fire, 
which  seemed  more  and  more  strongly  to  rise  up  in  his  soul, 
was  just  about  to  leave  the  house  into  which  he  had  been 
received,  and  to  wander  out  into  the  world,  without  any  other 
object  than  that  of  flying  from  himself 

Hertha  did  not  dissuade  him  from  this  purpose ;  on  the 
contrary,  she  strengthened  him  in  his  intentions  of  taking  a 
long  pedestrian  journey,  and  in  concert  with  the  relative  who 
had  received  him  under  his  protection,  laid  out  for  him  the 
route  of  such  a  journey,  and  furnished  him  with  letters  which 
would  enable  him  to  find  friends  and  protectors  at  various 
places  on  his  way,  in  case  he  needed  them.  This  was  good 
for  the  unhappy  young  man  ;  but  oh,  how  much  more  so  was 
her  presence,  her  strengthening,  consolatory  words,  and  the 
thought  that  she  had  come  to  Copenhagen  merely  for  his 
sake  ;  that  he  was  something  to  her  ;  that  she  had  an  interest 
about  him.  Joy  and  gratitude  for  this  made  him  as  a  child  in 
her  hands.  She,  on  her  part,  strengthened  by  the  baptism 
through  which  she  had  so  lately  passed,  talked  to  the  poor 
son  of  the  twilight  with  quite  another  ^asdom  and  quite 
another  power  than  formerly,  comforting  and  strengthening 
him  at  the  same  time. 

When  Hertha  had,  with  motherly  care,  provided  the  suita- 
ble equipment  of  Rudolph  for  his  journey ;  after  she  had  seen 
him,  with  his  knapsack  on  his  back,  weeping  but  still  happy, 
happy  by  her  blessing,  set  out  on  his  solitary  way  Avith  hig 
pilgrim-staff  in  his  hand,  she,  without  a  single  glimpse  at  the 
glorious  works  of  art  which  are  possessed  by  this  northern 


THE   POUR   SISTERS.  269 

Athens,  turned  her  face  towards  her  own  country  and  her 
own  home. 

Once  more  there  she  was  received  -with  unspeakable  joy  by 
her  young  sisters,  whose  tears  and  endearments  made  her 
feel  what  she  was  to  them.  Her  father  received  her  with 
dark  and  stern  looks,  but  without  saying  a  word,  although 
within  himself  he  cursed  and  swore  at  woman's  emancij^ation. 
But  he  felt  for  his  eldest  daughter  a  high  esteem  muigled  with 
fear.  He  needed  her,  and  was  afraid  of  driving  her  away. 
Aunt  Nella,  who  was  utterly  confounded  and  perplexed  by 
Hertha's  inexplicable  joux-ney  and  return,  said  a  good  deal 
about  "  Hertha's  vnid  ideas,"  and  muttered  still  more  about 
their  probable  deplorable  result,  whilst  she  occuj)ied  herself 
with  the  interesting  tangled  skeins  which  she  was  getting 
ready  for  a  great  weaving  which  was  to  be  done  in  the 
family. 

The  young  sisters  had  a  great  deal  to  say  about  Yngve 
Nordin ;  how  he  had  come  to  Kullen  the  very  day  that 
Hertha  set  off;  how  he  was  extremely  annoyed  by  hearing  of 
her  sudden  absence,  and  made  many  anxious  inquiries  about 
her,  to  which  they  could  only  give  sorrowful  and  unsatis- 
factory answers.  He  had  since  then  been  there  many  times 
to  learn  if  there  were  any  tidings  of  her,  and,  finally,  he  had 
left  a  note  for  her.     In  this  Hertha  found  only  these  words : 

"  Hertha,  what  is  the  meaning  of  this  ?  I  have  a  right  to 
demand  an  explanation.  Yngve." 

Why  did  Hertha  press  these  words  with  a  convulsive 
energy  to  her  heart?  It  was  because  their  frank  spirit, 
challenging  as  it  were  her  suspicion,  conveyed  to  her  soul,  as 
with  the  speed  of  lightning,  the  conviction  that  they  were 
written  by  an  innocent  and  injured  person,  by  one  who  in  the 
candor  of  innocence  demanded  satisfaction.  Oh,  that  it 
might  be  so — that  she  had  been  mistaken !  But  how  was  it 
possible,  credible  ? — ^Dark  enigma,  how  can  it  be  solved  ? 


210  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 


ST.  BRITA'S  SUMMER. 

Not  enchanting,  as  the  North  American  Indian-summer, 
but  yet  tender,  charming,  and  beautiful,  is  that  time  in 
Sweden  which  we  call  St.  Brigitta's  summer,  or  "  the  Britt- 
summer."  It  commences  at  the  same  time  as  the  American 
after-summer,  but  it  closes  much  earUer ;  its  life  is  like  a 
beautiful  smile,  which  for  a  moment  illumines  a  gloomy  coun- 
tenance. 

Already  are  housed  the  harvests  of  our  fields,  and  night- 
frosts  and  heavy  rains,  sometimes  snow-flakes,  have  chased 
away  the  beauty  of  the  meadows  and  the  leafy  trees ;  flowers 
have  drooped  their  heads,  and  leaves  become  withered; 
when,  at  the  commencement  of  October,  occurs  a  time  of 
bright  simshine  and  calm  weather ;  when  the  Swedish  land- 
scape aU  at  once  presents  a  beaming  autumnal  splendor,  with 
its  many-colored  leafage,  its  brilliant  bunches  of  fruit,  the 
wild-service,  and  the  mountain-ash ;  its  gorgeous  sun-flowers, 
its  whortle-berries  in  the  heath,  and  its  beautiful  birds,  circling 
about  in  the  tree-tops,  and,  like  the  novice,  putting  on  their 
most  glorious  attire,  just  at  the  moment  when  they  are  about 
to  take  leave  of  the  beauty  of  life,  and  go  into  their  wintry 
graves. 

The  northern  saint,  who  sename-day  occurs  at  this  season, 
and  whose  inward  warmth  was  such  that  she,  during  the 
severest  winter,  lay  upon  the  earthen  floor  of  the  unwarmed 
convent-cell  of  Wadstena,  and  was  not  conscious  of  cold,  was 
scarcely  less  remarkalble  than  is  this  summer  in  the  midst  of 
the  chill,  autumnal  life  of  November. 

The  wUd-service  and  rowan-trees  which  grew  round  the 
parsonage  of  Solberga,  were  bright  with  crimson  bunches  of 


THE    FOI.U    SISTERS.  QiTl 

fruit,  and  flocks  of  gay  silk-tails  were  circling  around  them,  in 
the  brilliant  sunshine  of  a  fine  morning  in  the  Britt-sunimer. 
The  parsonage  itself,  bright  and  clean  as  hands  could  make 
it,  had  altogether  a  hoHday  appearance,  just  as  if  its  inhabit- 
ants were  preparing  for  a  festival.  Fresh-gathered  juniper 
twigs  were  strewn  on  the  floor  of  the  entrance  and  dining- 
room  ;  the  sun  shone  gaily  through  the  bright  window-panes 
upon  the  white  tables  and  fresh  flowers. 

The  pastor's  wife  had  an  incredible  amount  of  things  to  do, 
she  had  set  all  her  maid-servants  to  work,  and  might  be  seen 
herself,  with  her  great  bunch  of  keys,  going  from  garret  to 
cellar,  fi-om  larder  to  dairy,  from  one  press  to  another  in  the 
house,  looking  out  table  linen  and  silver  and  china. 

Just  at  the  very  time  when  she  was  absorbed  in  the  linen- 
press,  in  the  agonies  of  choosing  among  several  table-cloths, 
between  the  large  rose  and  the  Httle  rose,  the  traveller  and 
the  star-patterns,  the  pastor  came  into  the  room  and  ex- 
claimed : 

"  Well,  my  little  old  woman,  it  is  no  use  trying  to  have  a 
moment's  conversation  ^vdth  you  to-day,  is  it  ?  It  is  really 
terrible  to  think  what  a  great  deal  you  have  to  do,  and  how 
much  trouble  these  '  schemes  and  machinations,'  as  Mrs. 
Uggla  would  call  them,  cause  you." 

"  What's  that  ?"  said  good  Httle  Mrs.  Dahl,  cheerfiilly, 
"  trouble  !  Don't  you  know  that  such  trouble  as  this  is  my 
greatest  dehght,  especially  when  it  is  for  the  benefit  of  the 
Infant  School  ?  And  the  object,  and  the  occupation  which  it 
gives — may  God  bless  them!  They  are  my  life  and  my 
pleasure,  and  ^dthout  them  I  should  not  hke  to  live.  To-day 
I  have  been  bustling  about  in  the  house  like  a  flame  of  fire, 
ever  since  four  o'clock  this  morning,  and  everything  to-day 
has  gone  on  so  well,  and  fallen  out  as  I  wanted  it,  just  as  if  it 
were  under  the  control  of  some  good  angel.  The  dough  has 
risen  so  beautifully  that  it  is  quite  a  pleasure  to  see  it ;  and — 
you  don't  know  what  a  nice  present  I  have  had  this  morning!" 

"  I  guess — a  haunch  of  venison !" 

"  A  haimch  of  venison  ?     You  are  not  very  far  wrong ! 


272  THE   FOUU   PTSTF.RS. 

something  quite  as  good  as  that :  three  hares  and  a  woodcock! 
You  know  we  must  cook  tnem  for  the  feast." 

"  Three  hares !  a  leap  for  every  hare,  and  a  kiss  for  the 
woodcock!"  exclaimed  the  pastor,  dehghted;  "I  thought 
I  smelt  something  uncommouly  good  in  the  kitchen.  But, 
harkye  now,  could  we  not  give  the  sexton's  family  one  of  these 
hares  ?" 

"  That  we'll  see  in  the  morning,  father  dear,  that  is  to  say, 
if  there  happens  to  be  a  hare  left  after  our  evening-feast. 
You  must  bear  in  mind  that  we  shall  have  about  thirty  people. 
But,  as  for  that,  we  might  ask  the  sextons  to  come  and  eat  a 
bit  of  the  roast ;  and — (I  think  I'll  take  the  little  rose ;  it's 
true  that  it  is  somewhat  worn,  but  nobody  will  see  it  by 
candle-light),  and  the  old  women  in  the  poor-house  shall  each 
have  her  loaf  for  Sunday." 

"  You  are  an  excellent  woman,  and  a  rare  housewife,"  said 
the  pastor,  with  aU  his  heart. 

"  Ah !  there  is  indeed  some  skill  required  in  being  a  house- 
wife, with  no  more  means  than  I  have.  Do  you  know,  my 
old  fellow,  that  I  have  actually  thanked  God  this  very  day 
because  I  was  not  rich,  for  in  that  case  I  should  not  know  and 
feel  as  I  do  now,  what  a  pleasure  there  is  in  planning,  and 
schemmg,  and  working,  so  that  one's  small  means  may  be 
siifficient  for  all,  and  a  httle  oo  spare !  And  when  I  have 
labored  the  whole  week,  and  then  at  the  end  find  that  I  havo 
a  little  over,  which  I  can  give  away,  without  detriment  to  the 
family,  to  some  poor  body  or  other,  is  it  not  a  pleasant 
feeling  ?  It  is,  mdeed !  Besides,  there  is  a  fresh  life  both  for 
body  and  soul  in  these  occupations  which  the  rich  never  can 
exj^erience.  And  when  I,  during  the  day,  go  about  and  look 
into  the  farm-yard,  or  the  larder,  or  the  garden  ;  and  thence 
over  the  fields,  and  see  how  green  they  are  gro\\dng,  or  how 
the  harvest  ripens,  or  up  to  the  sky,  and  see  that  it  is  bright 
as  to-day,  or  that  blue  openings  through  the  clouds  are 
glancing  towards  me  like  friendly  eyes,  then  I  think  that  the 
earth  is  so  beautiful,  God  so  good,  and  life  so  glorious,  that  I 
am — ready  to  cry !" 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  213 

"  Cry  ?"  said  the  pastor,  astonished,  "  why  cry  ?" 

"  Why,  for  this  reason,  because  I  have  not  anythmg  or 
any  one  about  me  that  could  feel  as  I  do  ;  for  this  reason,  that 
I  am — childless  !  Think  if  I  had  eight  or  nine  daughters,  or 
at  least  half-a-dozen,  to  bustle  about  with,  to  teach  hoAv  to 
work  and  to  enjoy,  as  I  do,  how  amusing  it  would  be  for  them 
and  for  me !  And  for  me,  who  am  just  now  beginning  to 
grow  old,  and  really  have  need  of  some  one  in  the  house  in 
whom  I  can  trust,  because  servant-gii'ls  are  but  servant-girls, 
and  one  cannot  leave  them  to  themselves.  I  sometimes  think 
that  I  certainly  shall  have  daughters  in  heaven,  seeing  that 
that  happiness  has  been  denied  to  me  on  earth." 

"  But  in  heaven,  my  old  Avoraan,  people  bustle  about  neither 
with  work,  nor  servant-maids,  but  they " 

"  Nay,  my  dear  fellow,"  interrupted  she,  "  don't  talk  to  me 
about  your  heaven,  in  which  people  are  either  to  stand  or  sit 
with  palms  in  their  hands,  and  sing  jDsalms  both  day  and 
night,  and  do  nothing  else  besides !  Because  I  tell  you  that  into 
such  a  heaven  I  do  not  wish  to  go,  even  though  you  yourself 
were  there.  I  should  not  continue  long  sitting  there  with 
palms  in  my  hands,  and  I  am  very  certain,  too,  that  our  Lord 
would  not  desire  such  an  unnecessary  thing,  either  of  me  or 
anybody  else  !  No,  to  work,  to  strive,  to  go  ever  onward, 
to  have  much  to  do,  and  much  to  care  for,  that  must  I  have 
there,  as  well  as  here,  if  I  am  to  thrive  at  all.  And  don't  you 
tell  me  that  our  Lord  has  no  other  ways  of  employing  me  and 
everybody  else  who  wishes  to  serve  him,  than  by  sitting  with 
palms  in  their  hands,  and  singing  psalms.  He  has  enough  in 
his  great  household,  both  larders  and  gardens,  to  look  after — 
they  may  be  spiritual,  such  as  Swedenborg  talks  of — and  poor 
souls  who  need  to  be  fed  from  them.  I  desire  nothing  better 
than  to  serve  our  Lord,  but  he  must  set  me  to  some  real  work, 
and  not  to  hold  palms  in  my  hands.  And  if  he  is  as  good  as 
I  believe  him  to  be,  he  will  give  me  some  daughters  to  educate 
and  teach  as  his  maid-servants,  for  then  first  mil  the  kingdom 
of  heaven  become  a  true  heaven  to  me  ! — (N(,  after  all,  I'll 
take  the  large  rose,  the  little  rose  has  too  many  holes  in  it !)" 
11 


274  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

"  Listen,  mother,"  said  the  pastor,  "  you  talk  as  often  about 
these  daughters  as  about  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  Why 
should  we  not  have  such  on  earth,  if  we  can  ?  We  can  aflord 
it,  and  we  have  room  enough  since  we  came  here,  and  I  am 
quite  convinced  that  it  would  be  amusing  and  good  for  us  to 
have  a  couple  of  young  gu-ls  in  the  family,  whom  we  could 
become  attached  to,  and  who  would  attach  themselves  to  us. 
Perhaps  om-  Lord  has  denied  us  any  children  of  our  own  in 
order  that  we  might  be  all  the  more  -vvilUng  to  adopt  those  of 
others,  who  do  not  need  them.  If  you  like,  let  us,  the  sooner 
the  better,  take  one  or  two  daughters  into  the  house." 

The  pastor's  wife  now  remained  sitting  with  the  large  rose- 
patterned  table-cloth  on  her  knee,  looking  at  her  husband  with 
an  expression  which  evidently  showed  that  his  words  had  gone 
to  her  heart. 

At  length,  she  said  : 

"  If  you  only  knew  how  often  i  nave  thought  of  the  very 
fcsame  thing !  But,  hitherto,  I  have  not  seen  any  young  girls 
whom  I  would  really  with  my  whole  heart  wish  to  call  mine, 
and  take  into  my  house.  But  now  I  actually  do  know  a 
coiiple  of  young  sisters  to  whom  I  feel  that  I  really  could 
become  as  a  mother,  and  whom  you,  of  a  certainty,  Avould 
also  become  fond  of." 

"Who  are  they  ?  who  are  they  ?  I'll  go  directly  and  himt 
them  up." 

"They  are  Eva  Dufv^a  and  her  sister  Marie.  They  are 
both  nice  girls,  and  would  become  really  clever  and  excellent 
women  if  they  found  their  right  place  and  fell  into  right 
hands.  The  mother  is  a  splendid  creature,  but  she  does 
everything  in  the  house  herself,  and  leaves  to  her  daughters 
nothing  but  trifles,  and  such  occu23ations  as  can  neither  fill  up 
their  minds  nor  yet  their  time.  Besides,  there  are  many 
daughters  in  that  family,  and  the  Dufvas'  affairs  are  in  an 
anxious  state,  so  that  I  fancy  they  would  be  relieved  if  a 
couple  of  the  girls  were  adopted  into  a  family  as  its  own 
children.  And  besides,  Eva  requires  to  go  away  from  home 
and  out  of  the  way  of  that  engagement  which  I  hke  her  for 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  275 

having  broken  off.  She  i*equires  to  be  removed  out  of  the 
way  of  all  temptation  and  over-persuasion  to  its  renewal.  She 
requires  a  new  and  a  fresh  sphere  of  activity,  and  that  she 
would  have  here.  Marie  is  only  a  child,  but  she  is  an  angel- 
child,  and  has  been  fond  of  you  ever  since  she  read  for 
confirmation  with  you,  so  that  I  should  have  been  quite 
jealous  if  I  had  not  been  so  pleased.  I  have  a  presentiment 
that  both  those  girls  would  be  delighted  to  come  to  us,  if 
only  their  parents  would  consent.  But  what  do  you  say 
about  it?" 

"  I  say  that  it  might  have  been  planned  in  Heaven,  so  good 
does  it  appear  to  me.  I  think  that  the  parents  mil  be  quite 
agreeable.  And  as  far  as  the  girls  are  concerned,  I  mean  to 
set  about  it  without  delay,  and  tell  them  that  if  they  do  not 
sprmg  at  once  into  our  arms,  and  call  us  father  and  mother, 
we  will  have  nothing  to  do  with  them." 

"  Softly,  softly,  my  dear  old  man ;  don't  be  in  too  great  a 
hurry,  else  you  will  frighten  them.  Besides,  we  must  say 
that  the  thing  is  an  experiment  for  a  y^ear  or  two,  that  we 
may  see  how  we  get  on  together,  and  so  on." 

"  That  is  a  matter  of  course ;  but  they  will  get  on  well  with 
us,  and  we  with  them,  of  that  I  am  convinced.  The  girls  are 
coming  here  to-day  with  their  mother,  are  they  not  ?  This 
very  day  the  proposal  must  be  made,  and,  if  possible,  the 
matter  arranged." 

"  I  have  had  an  impression  all  morning,"  said  the  pastor's 
wife,  "  that  something  out  of  the  common  way  was  going  to 
happen  to-day — something  good." 

"  God  gi-ant  it !"  said  the  pastor.  "  I,  on  the  contrary, 
have  had,  this  very  day,  great  anxiety  about  that  poor  lad, 
Yngve.  Ever  since  that  witch-girl,  Hertha — whom  I  should 
really  like  to  have  m  the  confessional,  and  give  a  sound  talking 
to  under  four  eyes — set  off  in  that  inexplicable  and  unaccount- 
able way  on  her  journey,  without  saying  a  word  to  anybody, 
never  has  he  been  like  himself,  as  you  yourself  know.  He 
neither  eats,  nor  sleeps,  nor  reads,  but  goes  and  pines  away  in 
grief  and  in  anguish,  which  sometimes  seems  like  contrition. 


2T6  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

I  cannot  understand  the  nifair.  He  ^\dll  not  say  anything. 
But  I  have  seen  him  wring  his  hands  till  they  have  cracked 
again,  and  strike  his  forehead,  or  strike  the  table  with  his 
clenched  fist,  as  if  he  were  in  a  towering  rage.  And  then 
Between-whiles  he  sits  gloomy  and  dark,  beating  his  brains 
about  something,  whilst  I  have  seen  fever  flush  his  cheeks, 
and  his  eyes  flash  angrily.  I  wish  with  all  my  heart  that 
Count  P.  would  carry  him  off  •mth  him  to  France  before  she 
• — the  witch — comes  back.  It  would  serve  her  right,  and 
perhaps  be  the  only  salvation  for  him." 

"Yes,  but  she  is  come  back,  and  will  probably  be  here 
to-day." 

"What  do  you  say?"  exclaimed  the  pastor,  disturbed, 
"  and  why  did  you  not  tell  me  before  ?" 

"  Because  I  did  not  know  till  tliis  morning  that  she  returned 
last  evening  to  Kullen.  And  I  have  now  sent  a  messenger  to 
her  with  a  note,  inviting  her  to  join  us  and  the  other  mem- 
bers of  the  Brother  and  Sister  Societies  here  to-day ;  and  I 
told  her  that  it  would  be  best  for  her  to  come,  if  she  wished 
yet  once  more  to  see  her  patient,  because  he  was  going  abroad 
for  the  establishment  of  his  health,  according  to  the  advice  of 
the  physician ;  and  that  Count  P.  had  invited  him  to  accom- 
pany him  to  France  next  week." 

"  You  have  done  all  that  this  very  morning  ?  "  inquired  the 
pastor,  amazed.  "  Of  a  certainty  you  are  a  remarkable  woman 
— sometimes.  And  I  must  go  at  once  and  tell  this  news  to 
the  poor  lad." 

"  Wait !  wait !  If  he  were  to  know  that  she  is  come  home, 
nothing  would  prevent  him  from  rushing  oft'  to  her ;  and  that 
would  never  do,  weak  as  he  is,  and  with  his  lame  knee.  He 
would  be  breakhig  a  blood-vessel  or  some  mischief;  he  has 
already,  twice  this  week,  spit  blood.  No,  that  will  never 
do!" 

"  Well,  then,  I  shall  myself  go  to  her,  and  speak  a  httle  of  .< 
my  mind  to  her — ^the  witch  !  "  said  the  pastor  vehemently. 

"  Wait,  my  old  man ;  I  expect  my  messenger  back  every 
moment." 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  2Tt 

"Wait,  and  wait,  and  wait:  but  I  cannot  wait,"  said  tne 
pastor  impatiently.  "  Who  knows  when  your  messenger  will 
be  back  again  ?  I  myself  am  the  best  messenger.  Besides,  I 
want  to  see  the  gu'l,  and,  if  possible,  get  to  the  bottom  of  this 
business.  And  if  she  is  not  as  much  worn  away  and  changed, 
as  he,  Yugve,  and  does  not  look  as  unhappy,  if  she  put  on  her 
proud  demeanor,  then — God  have  mercy  on  her !  " 

And  with  these  words  the  httle  pastor  was  outside  the 
door,  and  soon  in  full  career  towards  the  town. 

"  Those  men ! "  sighed  the  pastor's  wife,  and  shook  her 
head,  "  they  always  will  have  their  own  way.  There  he  goes 
now,  hurryiag  along,  and  will  get  warm,  and  then  chilled, 
and — if  he  had  only  waited  a  quarter  of  an  hour — ^but  now  I 
may  as  well  lock  up  my  press,  and  I  had  better  take  out  both 
the  large  and  the  httle  rose ;  very  Hkely  there  will  be  more 
guests  than  I  have  calculated  upon ;  and,  besides,  the  childi-en 
will  want  some  napkins — the  mended  ones  are  good  enough 
for  them.  But  now  I  wUl  go  and  look  after  Yngve  and  spiee 
his  breakfast  with  my  good  anticipations.  He  had  better  not 
hear  more  at  present." 

AH  this  was  spoken  half  aloud  by  our  pastor's  httle  wife, 
who,  hke  many  eldei'ly  ladies,  had  acquu-ed  the  habit  of  mut- 
tering to  herself. 

She  had  no  httle  to  do  that  day,  our  good  lady  of  the 
parsonage ;  for,  as  we  are  already  aware,  there  was  going  to 
be  a  great  feast  there  that  day.  The  whole  of  the  United 
Benevolent  Societies  were  to  meet  at  the  parsonage ;  and 
afterwards,  all  the  poor  children  of  the  Infant  School,  the 
greater  number  of  whom  belonged  to  the  families  who  suiFered 
by  the  fire.  The  children  were,  one  and  all,  to  receive  a  com- 
plete suit  of  warm  clothing  for  the  approaching  winter,  (and 
there  were  stMl  a  few  little  blouses,  shirts,  and  pinafores  to 
finish,  which  were  to  be  done  this  afternoon,)  and  the  enter- 
tainment was  to  close  with  a  dance.  As  regarded  the  re- 
freshments, several  of  the  ladies  were  each  to  contribute  a 
portion,  so  that  any  want  of  eatables  was  a  thing  not  to  be 
thought  of.    An  entertainment  on  this  plan  was  given  twice  a 


218  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

year  at  the  parsonage ;  and  many  of  the  participators  of  the 
feast  took  care  that  it  was  not  very  costly  to  the  minister  and 
his  wife.  Its  spiritual  portion,  cheerfiilness,  or  its  cheering 
power,  came  as  a  matter  of  course ;  and  it  was  a  saying  in  the 
place,  that  peoj)le  enjoyed  themselves  nowhere  so  thoroughly 
as  at  the  pastor's.  Besides,  people  found  there  that  which  is 
no  longer  so  commonly  met  with,  old  mead  and  old-fashioned 
cordiality. 

When  our  little  pastor  returned,  it  was  with  an  expression 
very  different  to  that  with  which  he  Avent  away. 

"  I  understand  nothing  about  the  whole  story,"  said  he, 
"  but  it  is  more  serious  than  I  imagined.  And  not  a  word, 
not  even  half  a  word  can  I  get  out  of  her  in  explanation.  In 
the  mean  time,  I  have  a  note  from  her  for  Yngve.  As  to 
your  messenger,  my  Uttle  woman,  I  met  him  on  the  way  to 
Kullen,  as  I  was  returning  thence.  He  had  only  some  half- 
dozen  errands  to  do  by  the  way,  and " 

"  Ah,  Avhat  ?  Half-a-dozen !  He  had  only  four  or  five, — 
but  she  is  coming  here  to-day,  is  she  not  ?  " 

"  Either  six  or  seven  ; — yes,  she  is  coming,  but  whether  it 
will  be  a  pleasure  for  anybody,  God  alone  knows." 

"  How  so  ?  Did  she  look  stiff  or  proud,  as  she  can  look 
sometimes  ?  " 

"  No,  not  a  bit  of  it,  and  it  is  better  that  she  did  not ; 
but  as  pale  as  marble,  as  if  there  were  no  blood  in  her  body, 
and  an  expression  as  if  she  were  going  to  death  or  judgment. 
I,  who  had  gone  to  her  determined  to  give  her  a  very  grave 
curtain-lecture,  I  declare  I  stood  before  her  Uke  a  school-boy 
who  has  foi-gotten  his  lesson,  and  is  ready  to  cry.  But  I  tried 
to  look  savage,  and  said,  '  Yngve  is  ill, — wiU  soon  set  out  on  a 
long  journey, — come  and  talk  with  him.'  On  which  she 
replied,  quite  mildly,  but  with  a  sort  of  death-like  immovabil- 
ity, and  with  colorless  hps,  '  I  wall  come.' 

"  '  To-day  ? '  said  I.  '  To-day,'  replied  she,  '  and — be  so 
good  as  to  give  Yngve  this,'  and  she  handed  me  this  note, 
which  was  ready  written. 

"I  looked  sharply  at  her,  and  asked  her  if  she  had  nothing 


TUE   FOUil   SISTERS.  2T9 

more  to  say.  She  replied,  '  Nothing  more  at  present  I  but — 1 
will  come ! ' 

"  '  Well  then,  in  God's  name  welcome  ! '  said  I,  and  turned 
round  to  go  my  way.  Never  before  did  I  feel  so  awkward,  and 
in  such  a  strange  state  of  mind." 

"Ah,  if  she  only  comes,  everything  wiU  then  get  right 
again,"  suggested  the  pastor's  wife.  "  I  don't  understand  the 
matter  any  better  than  you  do,  but  of  this  I'm  sure,  that,  one 
way  or  another,  this  will  be  a  lucky  day ;  the  bread  is  incom- 
parably good  ;  everything  has  gone  on  weU  in  the  kitcnen,  i.n  .1 
I  feel  as  excited,  and  at  the  same  time  in  such  a  holiday  state 
of  mind,  just  as  if " 

"You  were  going  to  have  a  couple  of  daughters  in  the 
house,"  interrupted  the  pastor,  "  and  it  ^nU  be  so ;  but — now 
I  must  g9  to  Yngve.  May  this  note  only  not  make  him  mad- 
der than  before." 

Yngve  seized  it  with  passionate  earnestness,  the  little  white 
note  on  which  he  recognised  Hertha's  handwriting.  He  broke 
the  seal,  and  read  these  words  in  silence ; 

"  Yngve, 

"  Meet  me  to-day,  at  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon, 
by  Alma's  grave.     I  wish  to  speak  to  you  there. 

"  HJEETHA." 

"  She  is  come,  she  is  come  then,  at  last !  "  exclauned  Yngve, 
with  enthusiastic  delight.  "  I  shall  then  see  her,  hear  her, 
talk  with  her.  My  God,  I  thank  thee  !  By  the  grave.  Yes, 
there.  And  even  if  she  comes  to  me  with  death,  I  shall 
thank  her.  Oh,  Hertha !  Hertha !  Thou  dost  not  know ;  thou 
dost  not  understand  " — and  Yngve  bowed  his  head  into  his 
hands  and  wept. 

"  Poor  youth,  poor  lad !  "  sighed  the  pastor,  silently,  as  he 
wiped  his  own  eyes.  "It  is  horrible  to  be  so  desperately 
in  love  :  I  was  in  love  quite  enough  with  my  Elsa,  but  never 
in  this  wise !  "  And  in  order  to  avoid  questions  which  he  in 
part  could  not,   and  in  part  feared  to,  answer,  the  pastor 


280  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

hastened  to  leave  the  room,  as  he  said,  "  He  had  a  child  to 
bajDtize,"  thus  leaving  Yngve  to  read  and  re-read  the  few 
words  which  this  little  note  contained. 

Again  alone,  he  pressed  it  to  his  heart,  to  his  feverish  lips, 
and  gave  himself  np  to  that  pathetic  folly,  which  is  to  the 
lover — be  his  name  what  it  may,  Yngve  Nordin,  Napoleon,  or 
Palmerston — wisdom  and  the  supremest  life;  that  is  to  say 
when  they  are  beloved. 

We  now  leave  the  pastor  to  his  baptizing ;  the  pastor's  wife 
to  ler  manifold  occupations ;  and  accompany  Yngve  to— 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  281 


THE  IHEETIN^G  BY  THE  GRAVE. 

'  It  was  a  wooded  church-yard  planted  with  thick-branched 
maple  and  Ume-trees,  to  which  Yngve  betook  himself,  and 
where  he  had  akeady  spent  many  happy  hours,  at  the  side 
of  his  beloved.  It  was  exactly  a  fitting  place  for  a  solemn 
meeting. 

The  sun  of  the  Britt-summer  day  shone  stUl  warm  above 
the  trees,  which  also  were  bright  with  their  varied  tints  of 
gold  and  fire-color.  And  whether  it  might  be  or  not,  that 
the  heart  of  nature  was  stu-red  by  secret  sjonpathy  mth  the 
silent  disquiet  of  the  young  man's  heart,  it  too  seemed  to  be 
waiting  for  something  upon  whose  word  or  look  depended  life 
or  death.  Sudden  gusts  of  •^dnd,  which  moaned  through 
and  swayed  uneasUy  the  branches  of  the  trees,  and  chased  the 
clouds  across  the  hitherto  clear  sky,  alternated  with  pauses 
of  death-like  stillness,  when  the  lightest  footfall  might  be 
heard,  and  when  tree  and  flower,  and  waving  gi-ass,  stood  stUl 
as  if  hsteniug.  Then  again  the  -wind  rose  and  the  trees  mur- 
mured, as  if  agitated  by  sighs,  and  the  leaves  fell  over  the 
graves  ;  and  the  wind  was  warm  as  the  wind  of  the  tropics,  as 
the  sweet,  the  bitter  disquiet  of  love  ;  and  again  it  became 
hushed  and  stUl,  and  all  things  seemed  to  wait. 

Yngve  stood  by  Ahua's  grave,  with  a  strongly  beating 
heart,  awaiting  her  who  could  give  him  life  or  death ;  so  it 
felt  to  that  agitated  young  heart,  the  emotions  of  which  had, 
by  expectation  and  sufiering,  been  excited  to  the  highest 
pitch.  Already  he  waited  five  minutes  beyond  the  appointed 
time ;  think,  if  she  should  not  come. 

Yngve  leaned  against  an  old  tree,  shaded  his  eyes  firom  the 
blinding  light  of  the  sun,  and  stood  listening  during  a  moment 
of  death-like  calm ;   he  knew  that  he  should  recognise  the 


282  THE   FOUK   SISTEKS. 

Bound  of  her  steps.  Just  then  a  genial  breath  of  air  fanned 
his  countenance ;  the  tree  murmured,  and  somethmg  said  to 
Yngve,  "  she  is  there !" 

He  raised  his  eyes,  and  she  stood  actiially  before  him,  but 
so  changed,  so  pale,  so  solemnly  earnest,  that  she  might  have 
been  but  newly  arisen  from  the  grave,  with  the  last,  heavy 
dream  of  human  life  upon  her  soul. 

He  involuntarily  extended  his  arms  towards  her.  And  she — 
the  strong,  proud  girl — was  obliged  to  support  herself  by  the 
seat  at  the  grave,  because  her  knees  trembled  beneath  her 
weight.  Yngve's  emaciated  countenance  bore  evidence  of  the 
amount  of  his  suffering,  but  in  its  pure  expression,  now,  as  it 
were,  transfigured  by  the  glowing  light  of  the  sun,  was  no 
consciousness  of  criminality.  The  two  contemplated  each 
other  in  silence  ;  which  he  was  the  first  to  break. 

"  Hertha !"  said  he,  "  you  too  have  suffered  ;  I  see  that !" 

"  Yes,"  replied  she,  "  and  you ,"  she  thought  of  adding, 

"  have  been  the  cause  of  it,"  but  she  could  not  do  so.  The 
longer,  the  more  closely  her  glance  questioned  the  countenance 
of  Yngve,  the  stronger  appeared  to  her  the  impossibihty,  the 
heavenly  conviction  that  he  could  not  be  guilty,  and  she  ex- 
claimed— "  No,  no,  you  are  not  false ; — no,  you  have  not 
acted  deceitfully ; — no,  I  see  by  the  expression  of  your  coun- 
tenance, that  you  are  incapable  of  such  guilt.  Oh,  my  God ; 
I  will  rather  die  at  this  moment  than  be  deceived  in  this 
belief ! — Yngve !  you  are  not  the — you  cannot  be — the  lover 
of  Amalia,  the  father  of  her  child !" 

"You  are  right ;  I  am  not!"  replied  Yngve,  calmly. 

"  I  beheve  you,  I  beheve  you,  and  I  thank  God !"  exclaimed 
Hertha,  with  clasped  hands.  "But  tell  me — why  did  she 
mention — Yngve  Nordin  ?" 

"  Because,"  replied  Yngve,  "  that  is  the  name  of  my 
youngest  brother,  as  well  as  my  oAvn.  All  the  three  brothers 
are  called  Yngve,  but  with  the  addition  of  another  name;  the 
brother  of  whom  you  speak  is  called  Alfred  Yngve ;  I,  Yngve 
Frey." 

"  Oh,  I  understand — understand  all  now !"  resumed  Hertha, 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  283 

greatly  affected — "it  is  lie  then  who  is  guilty,  and  you — 

you  are  Yngve  Frey  (Free!) Why,  why  did  I  not  know 

this  before?  A  great  deal  of  suffering  might  have  been 
spared !" 

"  Why  did  I  not  know  until  a  few  days  ago  that  Amalia 
was  your  near  relative?  You  never  mentioned  her  to  me, 
nor  she  you.  I  only  received  my  brother's  confidence  a  few 
weeks  ago,  and  had  no  right  to  betray  his  secret  before — 
circumstances,  such  as  have  now  occurred,  render  it  a  duty  in 
me  to  do  so." 

"  Oh,  Yngve  !  and  I  have  beUeved  you  guilty !  How 
shall  I  ever  forgive  myself!" 

"  Hertha  ! — give  me  the  right  to  obliterate  this  memory ; 
give  me  your  hand — become  my  wife ;  henceforward  let  all 
be  clear,  let  there  be  no  concealments  between  us — at  least, 
if  this  be  the  only  thing  which  has  simdered  us  !" 

"  Not  the  only  thing ;  hear  me — now  or  never  must  all  be 
said.  Yngve,  I  have  been  told  that  you  were  fickle;  that 
you  loved  another  woman  before  you  loved  me.  Answer  me ! 
Is  there  no  woman  who,  more  than  me,  has  a  title  to  your 
fidelity ;  no  child  which  has  a  right  to  demand  from  you  the 
name  and  the  protection  of  its  father  ?" 

And  Hertha's  voice  faltered  not;  but  she  herself  was 
deathly  pale,  and  her  countenance  had  resumed  its  solemn, 
almost  severe,  gravity. 

Well  for  Yngve  that  he  needed  not,  as  she  expected,  to 
evade  her  eye  ;  that  he  could  fearlessly  look  her  in  the  face, 
as  he  repHed : 

"  Give  me  your  hand,  mine  is  free,  and  no  such  responsi- 
bility rests  upon  my  heart.  I  have  loved  before  I  loved  you, 
yes,  but  from  the  overflowing  life  of  youth,  and  not  from  the 
fulness  of  the  soul.  I  might  have  erred,  have  fallen,  if  my 
mother  had  not  stood  like  a  good  angel  by  my  side.  When 
she  saw  my  tendency  to  be  carried  away  by  the  feelings  of 
the  moment,  she  talked  openly  with  me,  showed  me  the 
danger  of  being  thus  led  away,  and  convinced  me  by  exam- 
ples out  of  every-day  life,  of  the  misery  or  the  burdensome- 


284  THE  FOUR  SISTERS, 

ness  of  those  connections  which  shun  the  light,  and  impose 
duties  or  responsibilities  upon  us  which  oppressively  or  re- 
proachfully accompany  us  through  life.  She  made  me  feel  it 
to  be  a  beautiful  and  noble  object  to  preserve  myself  worthy 
of  a  pure  woman's  love.  And  how  I  have  thanked  her,  not 
now  alone,  but  ever  since  I  knew  you !" 

"  Is  it  then  really  so  ?"  exclaimed  Hertha  in  a  transport  of 
calm  certainty,  for  Yngve's  manly  and  fresh  explanation  had 
dismissed  every  shadow  of  doubt  from  her  soul ;  "  you  are 
then  really  and  truly  the  man  whom  I  sometimes  dreamt  you 
to  be,  ray  Yngve,  Yngve  Frey!  and  I  may  be  proud  of  loving 
you  and  of  being  loved  by  you !  Oh,  Yngve,  this  is  certainly 
a  heavenly  delight !  whether  we  are  separated  by  man,  or  by 
fate." 

"  N"o,"  interrupted  Yngve  solemnly,  "  that  shall  not  be ! 
'  What  God  hath  joined  together  let  not  man  put  asunder,' 
and  you  are  now  mine  before  His  sight.  Become  the  same 
also  before  man ;   become  my  bride,  and  in  a  short  time  my 

wife ;  give  me  the  right  to  watch  over " 

"  Hush,  hush,  beloved  !"  interrupted  Hertha.  "  Let  us  not 
now  talk  about  the  future,  not  now !  Let  us  rest  at  this 
moment,  it  is  complete  in  itself — perfect.  You  are  over-excit- 
ed, my  Yngve,  by  the  disquiet  of  many  days ;  I  am  wearied 
by  the  conflict  and  the  agony  of  this  time.  Seat  yourself  at 
my  side ;  let  me  hold  your  hand.  How  handsome  you  are, 
Yngve !  how  noble  and  good  you  are  !  The  smi  loves  you, 
it  smiles  upon  you  ;  God's  spirit  embraces  us ;  the  trees,  as  it 
were,  clap  their  hands  above  us :  the  flowers  caress  your  feet 
because  you  are  Yngve  Frey !  They  spring  from  the  grave, 
from  the  heart  of  Alma,  which  has  obtained  new  Ufe  through 
my  happiness.  How  beautiful  life  is,  Yngve,  my  Yngve* 
how  great  and  glorious  it  is  to  live — to  love  !" 

Thus  spoke  Hertha,  Avith  calm  but  rapturous  emotion,  as 
she  beamed  upon  him  glances  in  comparison  with  the  bright- 
ness and  fire  of  which  the  glow  of  the  sun  was  faint.  That 
force  of  expression  which  was  Hertha's  characteristic,  and 
which  gave  to  her  countenance  a  captivating  interest,  was 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  285 

now  transfigured  to  beauty  of  no  ordinary  kind.  Yngve 
could  only  contemplate  her  with  joy-bewildered  eyes,  while 
he  dr'ank  in  her  words  as  an  elixir  of  life.  When  they  ceased, 
it  was  because  they  were  sealed  with  a  kiss, 

"As  warm  as  life,  as  faithful  as  death," 

whilst  heart  throbbed  quickly  and  strongly  against  heart. 

It  was  not  the  feeble  soul's  oblivion  of  all  except  the  trans- 
port of  the  moment ;  not  the  ardent  rapture  of  jmssion  ;  it 
was  the  clear  consciousness  of  an  eternal  union,  a  deathless 
love,  which  here  bound  two  loving  hearts  together. 

But  a  thrill,  as  of  an  electric  shock,  hastily  passed  through 
Hertha.  The  au*  swayed  around  them,  and  in  the  same 
moment  was  heard  the  loud  tolling  of  the  bell.  The  church 
beUs  tolled ;  the  chiming  for  the  dead  commenced.  A  little 
troop  of  people  dressed  in  black  slowly  advanced  fi-om  the 
churchyard  gate  toward  an  open  grave. 

Now  the  procession  paused.  The  chiming  bells  ceased,  and 
the  monotonous  voice  of  the  clergyman  was  heard  for  a 
moment,  together  with  the  restless  soughing  of  the  trees  ; 
then  came  the  heavy  fall  of  the  three  shovelfuls  of  mould  on 
the  coffin  in  the  grave,  accompanied  by  the  words  : 

"  Dust  thou  art,  and  unto  dust  shalt  thou  return.  Our 
Saviour  Jesus  Christ  shaU  wake  thee  up  at  the  last  day ! 
Let  us  pray !" 

After  which  the  usual  prayer  was  spoken  by  the  clergy- 
man: 

"  Man  that  is  born  of  woman  is  of  few  days,  and  full  of 
trouble.  He  cometh  forth  like  a  flower,  and  is  cut  down ;  he 
fleeth  also  as  a  shadow,  and  continueth  not !" 

Yngve  pressed  Hertha's  hand  closer  to  his  heart  and  said : 

"  Love  is  stronger  than  death  !" 

"Yes,"  replied  Hertha,  "I  believe  it;  I  know  it." 

"  Be  mine  in  life  and  death,"  returned  Yngve. 

"  I  am  so !"  rephed  Hertha  ;  "  but  I  have  still  something 
to  say  to  you  before — how  beautiful  is  that  song,  Yngve !  how 


286  THE   POUR   SISTERS. 

it  seems  to  sanctify  the  sleep  of  the  grave — only  it  is  too  sad. 
Joyful  songs,  Yngve,  ought  to  be  sung  by  graves;  songs 
which  unite  night  with  day,  time  with  eternity ;  songs  about 
the  future  and  its  anticipations ;  songs  about  the  beginning 
and  the  completion.  But  you  are  pale,  Yngve,  and  the 
evening  is  growing  chill ;  the  sun  has  set ;  let  us  go  home  : — 
support  yourself  on  my  arm,  as  you  used  to  do,  my  Yngve  !" 

At  that  moment  the  chimes  began  again  to  play  ;  and  one 
of  the  men  separating  himself  from  the  funeral  procession,  has- 
tily approached  them. 

It  was  the  little  pastor,  who,  uneasy  at  the  long  conversa- 
tion of  the  lovers  by  the  grave,  now  came  to  look  after  them. 
They  offered  him  their  hands,  and  their  beaming  looks  told 
him  still  more  than  their  words,  that  all  was  clear,  all  was 
right  between  them. 

"Well,  then,  the  Lord  be  praised!"  said  the  pastor.  "  You 
need  not,  however,  sit  here  the  whole  night,  but  come  with  me, 
like  good  cliildren,  else  mother  at  home  there  won't  be  pleased 
either  with  me  or  with  you.  And  the  visitors  will  be  wonder- 
ing and  asking.     Come,  children,  come  along  with  me." 

Yngve  and  Hertha  accompanied  their  friend,  whilst  the 
funeral  procession  dispersed  in  various  directions,  though  the 
funeral  chimes  would  yet  continue  for  some  time. 

"Who  has  been  buried  this  evening  ?"  asked  Yngve. 

"A  young  man,  such  as  you,  and  who  was  only  lately 
betrothed,"  rephed  the  pastor  sorrowfully. 

The  three  walked  in  silence  to  the  parsonage. 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  ??7 


MERRIMENT  AND  DANCING. 

In  the  parsonage  of  Solberga  all  was  life  and  cheerfulness. 
People  drank  coffee  and  dipped  in  their  biscuits  ;  they  sewed, 
talked,  joked,  and  laughed.  The  gentlemen  would  help  the 
ladies  in  making  the  blouses  and  pinafores ;  but  they  made 
mistakes,  and  turned  the  little  garments  upside  down,  sewed 
in  the  sleeves  wi'ong,  either  pm*posely  or  by  accident ;  re- 
ceived instruction,  were  scolded  and  also  praised,  sometimes, 
when  now  and  then  they  showed  themselves  willing  to  become 
"  c'ever  with  their  needle,"  or  to  serve  as  sewing-cushions  for  a 
moment  or  two,  Avhich  office,  to  speak  the  truth,  they  per- 
formed very  indifferently.  In  the  mean  time  these  occupations 
gave  occasion  to  a  great  deal  of  merry  contention,  and  through 
all  one  little  garment  after  another  was  finished,  exhibited, 
praised,  and  criticised,  with  or  without  justice,  and  then  raised 
aloft,  that  is  to  say,  put  on  the  top  of  the  little  pile  of  clothes 
which  was  arranged  for  every  child,  upon  a  large  table. 

Mimmi  Svanberg  levied  a  contribution  on  all  the  young 
men  of  the  place  in  these  words  : 

"  Cousin,  I  shall  compel  you  to  give  me  a  twelve-skillmg 
piece,"  or,  "  My  dear  Mr.  M.  N.,  will  you  give  me  a  twelve- 
skilling  piece  ?"  And  there  was  not  a  cousin,  nor  a  Mr.  M.  N., 
nor  even  a  Mr.  N.  B.,  who  did  not  give  her  his  little  silver 
twelve-skilling,  as  cheerfully  as  it  was  asked,  well  knowing 
that  it  was  given  for  a  good  work. 

After  that  little  collection,  Mimmi  Svanbei'g  became  the 
life  and  soul  of  the  sewing  society,  whilst  she  now  here,  and 
now  there,  contrived  between  one  person  and  another,  to  knit 
the  threads  which  she  held  in  her  soft  hands,  and  wliich  were 
always  knit  to  somebody's  advantage.     Here  it  was  a  young 


288  THE  FOUR   SISTERS. 

governess  who  wanted  a  situation  in  a  family  ;  there  a  family 
who  were  in  want  of  a  governess ;  here  an  old  couple  who 
were  willing  to  adopt  a  child  ;  there  a  httle  child  who  needed 
to  be  adopted  ;  here  a  shawl  which  requu-ed  selUng  ;  and  there 
a  lady  who  wanted  to  buy  a  shawl ;  and  here  old  aunts  and 
young  cousins  who  wanted  advice  ;  and  Minimi  Svanberg 
must  do  all  this  and  find  counsel  for  all  these.  Mimmi  had 
really  enough  to  do. 

Then  the  children  came,  received  their  new  clothes,  and 
began  to  sing  their  songs ;  httle  Mina  led  them  Avith  her  clear 
voice;  and  after  that  followed  dancing — first  with  the  chil- 
dren, and  afterwards  among  the  company  themselves. 

Some  of  our  readers  may  have  experienced  how  an  enter- 
tainment which  immediately  follows  or  is  connected  with  some 
work  of  love  in  Avhich  the  company  to  be  entertained  have 
taken  common  part,  is  animated  by  a  more  than  usually  good 
and  cheerful  spirit.  The  heart  enters,  as  it  were,  into  the 
dance,  and  the  feet  receive  wings  therefrom.  Seldom  had  the 
gay  Swedish  folk-dances,  "  Vafva-Vahmar"  and  the  "  Nigar- 
polska,"  which  comprehended  both  old  and  young,  been  danced 
with  more  animation,  nor  amid  more  hearty  merriment,  than 
this  evening  after  the  clothing  of  the  children  at  the  parson- 
age. Every  now  and  then,  also,  the  pastor's  wife  refreshed 
them  with  her  home-brewed,  foaming  mead.  And  no  hearts, 
this  evening,  were  more  joyful  than  hers  and  her  husband's, 
for  they  had  obtained  a  daughter  in  the  house  named  Eva 
Dufva,  who  accepted  the  invitation  of  the  good  couple,  as 
Noah's  restless  dove  the  twig  of  the  olive-tree,  which  afforded 
her  a  resting-place  above  the  swelling  waves,  the  dreaded 
deluge. 

When  the  dancing  commenced,  Hertha  left  the  company  to 
return  home,  and  Yngve  accompanied  her. 


THE  FOUR  SISTERS.  289 


CONVERSATION  BY  THE  WAY. 

The  full  moon  had  risen,  and  now,  alternately  concealed  by 
clouds,  which  an  unsteady  but  not  ungenial  wind  chased  across 
the  heavens,  and  now  shinmg  forth  brightly  from  between 
them,  lighted  the  lovers  on  their  way. 

Yngve  was  again  supported  on  Hertha's  arm,  and  both 
walked  silently,  feeUng  how  momentous  was  the  approaching 
decisive  moment. 

Yngve,  however,  soon  broke  the  silence. 

"  We  must  soon  separate,  Hertha,"  said  he,  "  I  must  leave 
you.  In  a  few  days,  as  you  know,  I  must  go  abroad  for  the 
winter,  in  order  fully  to  establish  my  health,  that  I  may  be 
able  next  spring  to  return  to  my  former  employment,  to  all 
"which  is  dear  to  me,  my  native  land,  my  mother,  and — oh,  let 
me  add,  my  bride !  Unless  you  agree  to  this,  unless  you  de- 
cide our  fate,  I  cannot  take  the  journey  with  calimiess ;  and 
besides  that,  the  thought  that  I  must  preserve  my  health,  not 
for  my  own  sake,  but  for  yours,  wiU  be  more  beneficial  to  me 
than  all  the  watering-places  in  the  world.  You  know,  because 
I  have  told  you  so,  that  I  have  not  much  property,  but  I  am 
without  debts,  and  my  prospects,  in  the  career  which  I  have 
adopted,  give  me  the  hope  of  soon  obtaining  an  independence, 
both  for  me  and  mine.  You  know  my  heart,  you  know  how 
I  love  you,  Hertha — why  then  many  words  ? — can  jon  not 
love  me  ?  cannot  you  trust  yourself  to  me  with  your  Avhole 
heart  and  vnth.  your  whole  soul,  have  faith  in  me,  as  I  in  you  ? 
then — I  will  ask  nothing  fi'om  you.  You  have  demanded  an 
undivided  heart,     I  ask,  I  demand  nothing  less  from  you!" 

"  Then,  now  hear  my  confession,  Yngve  !"  replied  Hertha, 
"  and  after  that  you  yourself  shall  decide  upon  our  future ! 
you  are  not  my  first  love,  Yngve ! — although  I  have  not  loved 
18 


290  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

any  man  before  you.  Mine  has  been  a  joyless  childhood  and 
youth ;  my  first  impressions  of  life  were  bitter,  my  first  impres- 
sions of  home  and  marriage  were  that  distress  of  mind  and 
anguish  which  are  the  results  of  domestic  dissensions,  of  my 
mother's  tears  and  hysterical  cries  of  unhappiness.  These 
produced  in  me  an  early  disgust  of  marriage,  and  I  made 
a  vow  with  myself,  many  a  time,  of  late  years,  that  no  chUd  of 
mine  should,  amid  deceitful  caresses,  be  brought  up  to  quafi' 
that  bitter  wormwood  draught  called  Life.  I  saw  noble  and 
gentle  women  oppressed  ;  heard  their  silent  sighs  ;  saw  them 
become  pale  and  sink  into  the  grave,  after  a  life  without  joy 
and  without  purpose,  and,  in  proportion  as  my  hatred  to  the 
oppressor  grew,  grew  also  an  infinite  compassion,  an  ardent 
love  for  all  oppressed  souls,  which  I  might  very  well  call  my 
first  love,  and  I  vowed  to  myself  to  live  for  them,  and  never 
to  give  my  heart  and  my  hand  to  a  husband.  But  you  came, 
Yngve ;  I  learned  to  love  yOu,  and  through  you  I  began  to 
have  faith  in  man's  justice,  in  man's  magnanimity.  That  was 
much,  but  you  gave  me  more  ;  you  gave  me  faith  in  God,  by 
the  knowledge  of  his  ways,  by  the  insight  into  his  revelation ; 
oh  !  I  have  to  thank  you  for  very,  very  much  !" 

"  Is  it  then  only  gratitude  ?"  said  Yngve ;  "  is  it  no  more 
than  this  which  binds  you  to  me  ?  in  that  case,  Hertha,  we 
may  easily  part,  because " 

"  No,"  interrupted  she,  "  ah,  no !  and  you  cannot  wish  for 
more  than  my  heart  gives  you,  in  the  first  place  mvoluntarily, 
I  acknowledge  it ;  but  afterwards  of  free  will  and  cheerfully, 
since  I  have  come  to  know  you  fully ;  and  yet,  nevertheless,  I 
cannot  help  dreading  marriage,  even  with  you,  because  I  dread 
its  consequences ;  dread  the  becoming  a  mother ;  dread,  in 
partiou^lar,  being  the  mother  of  a  daughter  !  How  is  it,  Yngve, 
that  woman,  the  whole  world  over,  is  commended,  as  daugh- 
ter, wife,  mother,  sister,  fi-iend,  nurse,  comforter, — yet,  at  the 
same  time,  among  aU  people,  how  common  it  is  to  regard  the 
bu'th  of  a  daughter  with  indifference,  or  dissatisfaction,  nay, 
even  with  pity  ?  Is  it  not  fi-om  this  cause  that  woman's  lot  on 
earth  is  an  inferior  one  ;  that  she  is  not  entitled,  as  men  are, 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  291 

by  the  laws  of  the  land,  to  freedom,  independent  action,  or  to 
seek  for  happiness  in  her  OAvn  way  ?  that  she  is  destined  to  be 
depreciated  and  to  suffer  much  ?  And  here,  in  our  native 
land  esjiecially,  how  gloomy  is  her  path ;  how  circumscribed 
her  portion  !  how  is  the  whole  of  her  Ufe  crushed  down  by 
unjust  laws,  and  the  pleasure  of  men!  No,  no  !  I  cannot  be 
the  mother  of  a  daughter !" 

Yngve  now  replied,  with  as  much  tenderness  and  feeling  as 
if  he  were  speakmg  to  a  sick  person  : 

"  I  understand  you,  my  beloved.  But  you  are  too  much 
affected  by  your  gloomy  imjjressions,  and  not  yet  accustomed 
to  contemplate  brighter  scenes.  But  have  faith  in  God,  then 
— ^how  can  you  do  otherwise  than  hope  in  the  extension  of  his 
kingdom,  his  justice  and  love  on  the  earth  ?  Our  laws,  with 
regard  to  the  freedom  of  woman  and  her  future,  may  be 
changed  ;  yes,  they  must  be  changed  ;  if  not,  our  nation 
must  abandon  its  share  in  the  real  elevation  and  advance  of 
free  nations.  It  cannot  possibly  be  long  before  all  nations 
discover  the  true  means  of  their  moral  ennobling,  and  before 
the  stream  of  sj)iritual  emancipation,  which  is  permeating  the 
woi'ld,  wUl  also  elevate  and  hberate  our  nation  by  means  of 
its  most  vital  laws  and  institutions.  I  cannot  doubt  of  it  when 
I  think  what  Swedish  women  were  and  are  for  their  native 
land,  even  imder  laws  so  narrow-minded  as  ours  are  with 
regard  to  them  ;  I  cannot  doubt  of  it  in  presence  of  a  woman 
such  as  you.  And  you,  and  I,  and  all  good  citizens  will  labor 
to  speed  forward  the  advent  of  that  day." 

Heilha  looked  up,  whilst  her  eyes  beamed  with  a  sort  of 
bitter  joy.  "  Yes,"  said  she,  "  I  will  combat  for  that  object, 
even  though  it  should  debar  me  for  ever  from  the  more 
delicious  joys  of  life.  Yes,  I  will  remain  faithful  to  my  first 
love !" 

"  How  ?  what  do  you  mean  ?"  asked  Yngve,  astonished. 

"  Let  us  rest  a  moment  here,  Yngve ;  you  must  be  tired 
with  walking,  and  these  walls,"  they  were  now  among  the 
ruins,  "  afford  us  convenient  resting-places ;  we  can  taf  ■ 
better  here." 


292  THE   FOUR  SISTERS. 

Yngve  seated  himself  upon  a  fallen  wall  and  gazed  with 
excited  attention  at  Hertha,  who  continued  standing  opposite 
to  him,  as  she  rested  her  arm  upon  another  blackened  wall ; 
the  moon  brightly  illumined  her  expressive  countenance  and 
noble  figure.     She  continued  in  a  grave  and  gentle  voice : 

"  Is  there  no  higher  object  for  man  and  woman  than 
marriage,  than  that  of  building  for  themselves  a  little  nest 
and  then  living  happily  with  each  other,  and  with  their 
offspring,  hke  animals,  or  savages  who  approximate  to 
animals?  I  will  not  blame  such  as  do  not  seek  any  object 
higher  than  this  in  life  ;  but  God  has  not  permitted  me  to  find 
it  all-sufiicing.  Were  it  so,  I  should  be  disloyal  to  my  first 
love ;  I  should  have  lived  and  suflfered  in  vain.  Yngve !  I 
love  you  with  my  whole  heart,  and  yet  I  cannot,  I  will  not 
live  alone  for  your  happmess  and  my  own, — in  that  case  I 
should  not  deserve  to  live." 

"  Strange  gh'l !     For  what  then  will  you  live  ?" 

"  To  liberate  my  captive  sisters,"  replied  Hertha,  with 
fervor  and  earnestness,  "  to  liberate  those  souls  whose  long- 
ings and  suflTerings  God  has  given  me  to  feel  and  to  under- 
stand ;  as  far  as  my  ability  and  my  little  sj^here  on  earth 
extend,  to  break  the  fetters  which  bind  them,  to  inspire  them 
with  the  desire  which  inspires  me  ;  to  give  them  the  hope 
which  has  become  mine,  since  I  have  become  acquainted  with 
you,  Yngve,  and  through  you  with  the  Lord  of  freedom  and 
love,  I  am  not  too  sanguine  in  my  hopes,  as  you  are;  I  know, 
Yngve,  that  such  men  as  you  and  Judge  Carlson  are  rare  in 
the  world,  and  I  fear  that  it  will  yet  be  long  before  our 
Swedish  legislators  will  concede  to  woman  the  right  of  unre- 
stricted human  and  social  freedom  and  development ;  long 
before  they  will  throw  open  to  the  daughters  of  Sweden  those 
educational  institutions  which  would  give  them  an  opportuni- 
ty of  acquirmg  knowledge  and  self-reliance  ;  in  a  word,  before 
they  will  do  for  them  that  which  they  have  done  for  the  sons 
of  our  country.  Besides,  I  know  that  I  am  only  a  mean 
woman,  not  having  arrived  at  years  of  maturity  in  the  eye  of 
the  land,  -Rathout   the  right  to  control   my   own  property, 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  293 

or  my  own  actions ;  ignorant  of  many  things  which  it  is 
important  for  me  to  know  ;  but  I  feel  within  myself  a  will, 
and  latterly  a  light,  which  may  place  me  in  a  condition  to 
work  towards  a  coming  deliverance. 

"  I  have  of  late  often  had  a  vision  which  will  grow  clearer ! 
and  clearer  to  my  eye,  until  it  becomes  the  light  and  object 
of  my  life.  I  see — myself,  in  lofty,  light  school-rooms,  sur- 
rounded by  young  women,  and  conversing  with  them  of  their 
souls'  inner  voice,  and  of  God's  voice  in  it,  of  the  most  impor- 
tant object  of  life  and  of  society,  of  the  vast  imj^ortance  of 
every  individual  life,  every  individual  gift,  and  their  conse- 
quent connection  with  it ;  of  then*  value  as  members  of  a 
divine  community  on  earth  as  in  heaven,  of  their  highest  duty 
and  highest  right.  I  would  found  an  institution  of  education, 
a  higher  school,  where  they  shall  not  learn  French  or  Ger- 
nian,  or  music  or  dra\ving — all  those  can  be  learned  elsewhere 
— but  where  young  girls,  out  of  whatever  class  of  society  they 
may  be,  Avhich  have  awoke  to  a  consciousness  of  a  higher 
want  and  for  whom  the  spiritual  cell  in  which  they  have  lived 
has  become  too  limited,  may  acquire  the  true  knowledge  of 
themselves  and  of  their  vocation,  as  members  of  society  ;  may 
teach  themselves  to  reflect  and  to  answer  the  questions, 
'  What  am  I  ?  what  can  I  do  ?  what  ought  I  to  do  ?' 

"  I  would  imjjart  to  these  young  human  souls  an  insight  into 
their  own  souls,  and  into  life,  which  shall  teach  them  to  under- 
stand their  own  position  and  calhng  in  it ;  I  would  open  their 
ears  to  hear  the  voice  of  God,  dedicate  their  desires  to  the 
obedient  fulfilment  of  its  bidding.  One  and  all  should  follow 
their  own  mdividual  course,  but  all  tending  to  one  common 
object ;  the  freedom  of  the  one  should  operate  for  the  freedom 
of  all.  Prayer  and  labor  should  be  our  tools ;  our  watch woi-d, 
'Freedom  in  God  through  Christ.'*     And  a  day  will  come, 

*  If  any  think  that  Hertha  here  propounded  erroneous  doctrine,  we  would 
take  the  liberty  of  recalling  to  their  memory  the  following  texts,  among 
many  others  to  the  same  purport: — 
"  For  ye  are  all  the  children  of  God  by  faith  in  Christ  Jesus." 
There  is  neither  male  nor  female :  for  ye  are  all  one  in  Christ  Jesus." 

Galat.  chap.  iii.  26  23 


294  THE  rOUR   SISTERS. 

Yngve,  when  the  voices  from  this  little  flock  of  enfranchised 
and  enlightened  souls  wUl  arise  and  reach  the  ear  of  him  who 
sits  upon  the  throne  of  our  native  land, — will  reach  the  assem- 
bly of  legislators,  not  as  the  cry  of  emancipation  for  women, 
feeble  and  inharmonious,  but  as  a  strong,  harmonious,  accord- 
ant choir ;  and  then  they  must  listen,  then  they  must  under- 
stand, and  then,  perhaps,  they  will  act  according  to  justice  and 
truth. 

"  I  perhaps  may  not  live  to  see  this  day,  but  I  may  prepare 
its  advent ;  see  the  rosy  tints  of  its  dawn  ascend  in  young 
combating  breasts,  on  pure  foreheads,  and  then — I  shall  die 
contented. 

"  Many  things  in  my  plan  are  stiU  immature  and  indistinct. 
But  I  know  that  it  will  clear  itself  up,  and  that  I  shall  mature 
myself  for  it.  Neither  do  I  know  the  time  nor  the  hour  when 
I  may  be  able  to  set  it  in  operation,  but  I  feel  within  me  that 
it  will  come.  And  in  the  mean  time  I  "will  prepare  myself  for 
it,  will  endeavor  to  acquh-e  the  knowledge  in  which  I  am  defi- 
cient ;  will  endeavor  to  become  acquainted  with  such  persons 
as  might  be  able  to  assist  me,  either  by  counsel  or  by  action, 
although  I  shall  rely  not  alone  on  such  aid — ^because  how  sel- 
dom do  we  find  that  people  will  reach  forth  a  helping  hand 
towards  the  accomplishment  of  a  good  work,  which  is  peculiar 
and  out  of  the  common  everyday  track  ?  Every  one  who 
devotes  himself  to  such  a  work  must  be  prepared  to  stand 
alone,  unsupported — often  perhaps  to  be  abused  and  counter- 
acted. But  this  gives  me  very  little  concern.  One^  I  know, 
there  is  in  heaven  who  will  understand  me,  and  one  also  on 
earth — you,  my  Yngve !  And  now  I  ask  you,  my  Yngve,  can 
you,  will  you  extend  to  me  your  hand  as  a  helper  in  my  under- 
taking, and  enter  into  my  work ;  can  my  love  become  your 
love,  my  friends  your  friends,  my  life's  object  yours  ?" 

"  You  open  to  me  a  fore-court  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven," 
exclaimed  Yngve,  "  and  ask  whether  I  Avill  enter  mto  it  ?    Yes, 

"  As  many  as  are  led  by  the  spirit  of  God,  are  the  sons  (children)  of  God ;" 
"  And  if  children,  then  heirs ;  heirs  of  God,  and  joint  heirs  with  Christ," 

Bom.  chap.  viii.  14, 17. 
"  All  things  are  yours."— 1  Cor.  chap  iii.  21. 


I 


THE   FOVR  SISTERS.  295 

Hertha,  yes !  that  I  will,  with  all  my  heart  and  all  ray  soul ! 
Neither  do  I  see  that  my  occupation  as  engineer  can  prevent 
mQ  from  actively  participating  in  a  labor  of  higher  importance 
than  all  plans  of  advancement  in  time  and  space.  Yes,  I  know 
that  it  is  precisely  by  means  of  such  an  intellectual  activity 
that  my  life's  endeavors,  my  soul's  desires  will  find  their  full 
pm-pose  and  accomplishment.  Only  you  must  promise  me  one 
thing ;  for  I  also  have  my  conditions,  beloved !" 

"  What  are  they,  Yngve  ?" 

"That  you  will  allow  youths  as  well  as  yoimg  girls  to 
attend  your  classes,  your  lectures!  Of  special  branches  of 
study,  abstract  philosophy,  we  can  obtain  sufficient  knowledge 
in  our  academies  and  colleges,  but  not  a  living  view  of  hfe,  of 
society,  and  of  ourselves ;  this  can  be  given  best  by  a  womanly 
soul,  such  as  yom-s !  Therefore — let  youths  also  attend  your 
classes,  Hertha !" 

"  Any  one  whom  you  may  introduce  to  me,  Yngve,  shall  be 
welcome  to  me  as  a  brother." 

"  Good  !  we  are  then  agreed  on  this.  Give  me  your  hand, 
my  bride,  my  wife — my  helper  in  labor  and  pleasure,  in  joy 
and  sori'ow,  in  Hfe  and  death !" 

In  reply  Hertha  extended  her  arms  and  clasped  her  friend 
in  a  faithful,  warm  embrace. 

The  evening  wind  fluttered  aroimd  them,  and  scattered 
them  with  ashes  and  dust  from  the  ruins  around  them.  They 
felt  it  not.  They  had  built  for  themselves  a  home  and  a  house 
not  made  with  hands,  one  wloich  would  stand  when  their 
hands  had  become  powerless,  and  in  which  they  might  dwell 
when  their  hearts  had  ceased  to  throb  on  earth  against  each 
other,  as  they  did  now.  That  they  Icnew,  and  were  happy, 
nay  blessed !  The  joy  of  heaven  united  itself  with  that  of 
earth  in  their  pure  bosoms. 

"  Let  us  now  go  to  your  father,"  said  Yngve  ;  "  everything 
must  be  said  and  done  this  very  evening.  In  order  to  bear 
the  thought  of  a  long  separation  from  you  I  must  know  that 
in  the  spring  I  may  return  and  claim  you  as  my  wife." 

Hertha  sorro'svfully  shook  her  head ;   and  now  began  to 


296 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 


prepare  him  for  the  diflficulties,  nay,  even  the  opposition  which, 
in  all  probabiUty,  they  would  have  to  encounter  frora  her 
father.  They  might  expect  long  delay,  possibly  refusal.  They 
must  arm  themselves  with  patience. 

Yngve  would  not  hsten  to  this,  he  was  impatient  and  irri- 
tated by  the  thought  that  a  woman  such  as  Hertha,  of  matured 
age,  and  mth  her  own  independent  property,  should  not  be 
allowed  to  decide  her  own  choice  or  her  own  future, 

"  It  is  irrational ;  it  is  not  to  be  thought  of,"  said  he,  "  that 
your  father  wiU  refuse  it  to  you !" 

But  the  certainty  which  Hertha  possessed,  that  tliis  was  not 
only  possible,  but  even  probable,  communicated  itself  by 
degrees  to  Yngve,  and  depressed  him.  The  certamty  of  their 
hearts'  inward  union,  and  the  thcaight  of  the  bond  which  they 
had  formed,  was  not  sufficient  to  sustain  his  joyous  state  of 
mind  at  this  moment,  when  in  addition  the  approaching  sepa- 
ration hung  hke  a  heavy  cloud  over  his  heaven. 

The  remainder  of  the  way  was  passed  in  silence.  As  they 
passed  Kullen,  Yngve  said  : 

"  I  have  a  request  to  make  of  you,  Hertha.  I  have  had  by 
deo-rees  aU  my  little  store  of  books  sent  to  me  at  the  Solberga. 
Will  you  take  charge  of  them,  and  let  my  books  talk  to  you 
of  me  whilst  I  am  far  away  ?" 

"  You  could  not  give  me  a  more  j^recious  gift,  Yngve,"  said 
Hertha,  "  excepting  one,  which  I  will  beg  of  you !" 

"  Of  me  !"  exclaimed  Yngve,  joyfully  surprised,  "  what — ■ 
what  can  I  give  you  .^" 

Never  had  Hertha's  voice  been  so  melodious,  as  now  when 
with  humility  and  heartfelt  emotion  she  said : 

"  Your  influence  mth  your  mother  ;  that  she  wUl  consent 
to  come  and  be  a  mother  in  my  home,  a  mother  to  me  and 
my  young  sisters.  She  shall  find  there  daughterly  respect 
and  love.  I  have  spoken  Avith  my  father  on  the  subject,  and 
he  sees  it  in  the  same  light  as  I  do.  Our  home  needs  a  good 
and  prudent  mistress,  my  young  sisters  an  experienced  and 
motherly  oversight,  and  I  the  leisure,  in  dependence  upon  this, 
to  prepare  myself  for  my  future  undertaking.     Thus,  as  I, 


{ 


THE    FOUR    SISTERS.  29t 

through  you,  hecame  acquamted  with  your  mother,  I  feel  that 
I  shall  love  her ;  that  she  mil  be  a  good  angel  m  my  home 
and — for  me,  who  will  learn  from  her  that  gentleness  in  woman 
which  you,  Yngve,  value  so  highly.  And  there  is  in  my  home 
a  room  withm  mine,  Avith  a  wmdow  towards  the  setting  sun, 
a  pleasant  little  room,  which  it  will  delight  me  to  arrange 
according  to  your  mother's  taste,  and  which  I  long  since  des- 
tmed  for  her.  Pray  of  her,  Yngve,  to  c»me  and  take  posses- 
sion of  it,  and  call  it  hers ;  it  will  make  me  very  happy !  Will 
you,  Yngve?" 

"  I  know  not  how  to  thank  you  ?"  said  Yngve,  deeply  af- 
fected ;  "  but  I  understand  you,  and  I  \7ill  write  to  my  mo- 
ther." 

Now  they  were  at  Kullen,  and  entered  the  house  with  an 
uneasy  presentiment  as  to  the  reception  which  they  might 
meet,— little  dreaming,  however,  that  they  would  meet  and 
be  met  by 


298  THE   FOUR   SlSiXKllS. 


THE  GREAT  LAW-SUIT. 

At  the  moment  when  Yngve  and  Hertha  entered  the  halJ, 
Aunt  Nella  came  rushing  in  from  her  own  room  with  her  large 
portfoUo  imder  her  arm,  her  eyes  wide  open,  and  with  altoge- 
ther a  most  bewildered  appearance. 

"  Yes,"  said  she,  addressing  Hertha  in  a  passionate  and  re- 
proachful tone,  "  you  are  come  in  time  to  accompany  your 
father  to  prison,  unless  I  can  save  him  and  us  all !  Ay,  now  it 
is  all  plain  enough  ;  now  we  shall  see  what  comes  of  it." 

And  so  saying,  Aunt  Nella  began  hastily  to  ascend  the 
stairs  with  the  great  portfoho  in  her  arms,  incessantly  talking 
the  while  of  "  enemies,"  and  "  prison,"  and  "  law-suit,"  and 
"  I  very  well  knew  that  it  would  come,  that  I  did  !  But  I 
shall  be  as  good  as  they  !  I  shall  show  them  my  papers.  They 
shall  see,  they  shall  see,  they  shall  see " 

Greatly  amazed,  Yngve  and  Hertha  followed  Aunt  Nella's 
steps  to  the  dining-room,  where  the  door  of  the  Director's 
room  which  adjoined  it,  stood  open.  Within  Hertha  saw 
lights  burning,  and  her  father  pale  with  anger,  standing  before 
two  gentlemen,  who  were  strangers  to  her.  They  seemed  to 
have  brought  a  written  document,  which  now  lay  on  a  table 
between  them  and  the  Director,  and  upon  Avhich  he,  from  time 
to  time,  cast  angry  glances. 

"  I  will  continue  my  suit  against  you  as  long  as  I  live!"  said 
he  in  a  voice  tremulous  with  anger. 

"  As  you  please,  Mr.  DircctiJi-,"  said  one  of  the  gentlemen 
with  calm  politeness ;  "but  tlie  longer  you  do  so,  the  more 
you  will  lose.     The  verdict  of  the  Court " 

"The  Court  I"  screamed   .Vunt  Nclla,   as  she  stonned  in 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  299 

with  her  great  portfolio,  "  the  Court  must  first  hear  what  I 
have  to  say,  and  see  ray  papers !" 

And  before  the  astonished  eyes  of  the  two  gentlemen  Aunt 
Nella  held  up  the  big  portfoho,  as  she  contmued,  "  And  if  it 
comes  to  freeing  my  brother-in-law  and  myself  from  the  talons 
of  the  law,  and  from  prison,  means  will  not  be  wanting  ;  see 
here !  and  see  here  !" 

And  Aunt  NeUa,  from  out  of  the  confusion  of  letters, 
scraps  cut  out  of  newspapers,  and  patterns  for  embroidery, 
drew  forth  several  small  pieces  of  paper,  which  soon  fixed  the 
attention  of  the  gentlemen.  These  small  pieces  of  jiaper  were 
actual  scrip,  some  for  several  hundreds,  and  others  thousands 
of  rix-dollars,  and  the  amount  of  which,  when  all  added 
together,  showed  a  total  value  of  about  ten  thousand  rix- 
dollars. 

The  two  gentlemen  had  evidently  begun  with  the  suspicion 
that,  "  the  old  woman  must  be  crazy !"  but  afterwards  it 
seemed  to  be  that,  "  the  old  woman  might  perhaps  be  wiser 
than  j^eople  imagined," 

Aunt  Nella  continued :  "  My  enemies  have  long  persecut- 
ed me  in  secret,  but  now  when  their  maUce  is  revealed,  and 
they  seek  to  drag  in  my  brother-in-law  also,  it  is  my  duty  to 
place  in  his  hands  those  means  which  may  free  both  him  and 
myself" 

Aunt  Nella  said  this  with  pathos,  and  not  -odthout  dignity. 
But  the  Director,  who  wished  to  make  an  end  of  this  scene, 
said  shortly : 

"  Keep  your  money,  sister-in-law ;  I  have  no  need  of  it ; 
but  I  thank  you  for  your  good  intention.  Gentlemen,  we 
have,  I  believe,  nothing  more  to  say  to  each  other.  I  have 
received  your  summons,  and  shall  appear  before  the  Court. 
Good-bye," 

The  two  gentlemen  bowed  coldly  to  the  Director,  and  with 
half  a  smUe  to  Aunt  N^ella. 

The  Director  again  fixed  upon  her  astonished  and  deferen- 
tial regards.  They  said  evidently,  "  This  from  Aunt  Xella ! 
Who  would  have  expected  such  a  thing  of  her  ?     Ten  thou- 


300  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

sand  rix-dollars !  The  Nought  (Nolla)  is  of  more  value  than 
I  imagined." 

Aunt  Nella,  who  saw  the  astonishment  and  read  the 
thoughts  of  the  Du-ector,  sunned  herself,  in  the  expression  of 
his  glances,  without  rightly  comprehending  that  they  had 
reference  to  the  nought^  which  he  had  formerly  considered  as 
her  only  value.  The  excitement  which  had  so  lately  given 
him  strength,  died  away  on  the  departure  of  the  gentlemen, 
and  he  sank  down  in  his  arm-chair  with  a  deep  sigh  and 
almost  fainting. 

Hertha  went  uj)  to  her  father,  as  she  said  : 

"  Father,  I  am  here.  Will  you  not  tell  me  what  it  is  that 
has  so  disturbed  you  ?  Cannot  I  be  of  some  use  ?  cannot  I 
help  in  some  way  ?" 

"  And  I,"  said  Yngve,  also  going  forward  and  taking  the 
Director's  hand,  "  cannot  I  be  of  some  service  to  you  ?  Let — 
oh,  let  me  serve  you  as  your  son  and  as  Hertha's  husband ! 
My  w^hole  life  shall  prove  how  highly  I  value  this  happiness  !'* 

Exactly  as  a  wall  of  rock  raises  itself  against  a  rushing  flood, 
and  dams  up  its  course,  so  now  rose  up  the  Director,  and 
gazed  at  the  two  with  looks  of  astonishment,  which  became 
all  the  more  rigid  and  severe  as  he  exclaimed  in  broken  sen- 
tences : 

"  Thank  you — thank  you — for  the  offer  of  so  much  help  ; 
but — ^I  believe  myself  not  altogether  incapable  of  helping  my- 
self, of  managing  my  own  affairs.  I  do  not  feel  as  yet  any 
need  of  support — I  feel  myself  as  strong  and  as  clear  as  I  ever 
did.  And  as  regards  your  offer  to  my  daughter,  Lieutenant, 
I  am  astonished  that  she  did  not  prepare  me  for  it,  as,  accord- 
ing to  my  ideas,  it  was  her  duty  to  do — and  I  am — in  conse- 
quence— not  prei:»ared  with  an  answer.  My  duty,  as  father 
and  guardian,  forbids  me  to  give  my  daughter  to  the  first 
man  that  asks  her,  and  of  whom  I  know  nothing  at  all ;  and — 
no  disresj^ect  to  you.  Lieutenant,  but  I  think  that  the  time  for 
your  proposal  might  have  been  better  chosen." 

"  If  so,"  replied  Yngve,  calmly,  and  with  cordiality,  "  then 
permit  me  to  return  some  other  and  more  suitable  time,  which 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  301 

you  may  yourself  appoint,  and  when  I  may  give  you  all  the 
information  regarding  myself,  which  you  have  a  right  to 
demand." 

There  was  something  so  good  in  Yngve's  expression,  his 
manners  were  so  pleasing,  and  at  the  same  time  so  easy  and 
cordial,  that  sooner  or  later  he  won  upon  aU  with  whom  he 
came  in  contact. 

Even  the  Director  could  not  resist  their  influence,  and 
bowed  his  head  as  a  silent  assent  to  the  young  man's  entreaty. 
When,  therefore,  Yngve  mentioned  his  approaching  journey, 
and  requested  that  an  opportunity  for  this  much-desired  inter- 
view might  be  granted  on  an  early  day,  the  Du-ector  replied : 
"  To-morrow  evenuig  at  six  o'clock." 

When  Yngve  had  taken  his  departure,  the  Director  broke 
out  violently  against  his  daughter,  upbraiding  her  severely 
for  not  having  prepared  him  for  Yngve's  ofier. 

"  Don't  tell  me,"  said  he,  "  that  you  were  not  prepared  for 
it  yourself  An  old  maid  hke  you  knows  only  too  well  when 
a  man  means  to  make  her  an  offer,  and  it  is  in  that  case  her 
duty  to  prepare  her  father  beforehand.  Besides,  you  know 
that  I  am  no  friend  to  surprises." 

To  Aunt  Nella  the  Director  said : 

"  I  do  not  really  need  your  money  at  this  time,  sister-in- 
law,  but  you  ought  not  to.  let  tliis  scrip  lie  carelessly  among 
all  sorts  of  loose  papers ;  it  will  be  best  for  me  to  take  charge 
of  it  for  you,  and  I  >vill  take  care  that  you  have  your  interest 
regularly.  I  can  place  it  to  better  account  than  you  can. 
And  if  I  should  have  occasion  to  borrow  your  money,  you 
know  that  you  have  good  security  for  it  ^vith  me." 

"  It  is  the  savings  of  forty  years,  brother-in-law,"  said  Aunt 
Nella,  and  began  to  cry,  affected  at  the  thoughts  of  her- 
self 

"  Yes,  which  you  were  able  to  make  in  my  family  for  the 
most  part,"  said  the  Director,  "  and  whilst  you  there  lived  free 
of  cost,  and  had  no  need  to  spend  anything.  But  in  any  case 
it  is  very  beautiful,  very  beautiful  of  you,  sister-in-law,  and  I 
esteem  you  very  much  for  your  prudence  and  circumspection, 


302  THE    FOUR   SISTERS. 

and  for  the  proof  of  friendship  which  you  have  given  me  to- 
day. I  shall  not  forget  it !  I  shall  regard  all  yours  as  if  it 
were  my  own,  and  take  just  the  same  care  of  it." 

And  so  saying,  the  Director  laid  Aunt  Nella's  scrip  in  his 
pocket-book,  and  after  that  pressed  and  shook  her  hand,  as  he 
said  half-jokingly : 

"  Only  think  of  a  Httle  creature  like  you  being  worth  ten 
thousand  rix-dollars !     Who  could  have  thought  it  ?" 

Aunt  Nella  curtseyed  and  smiled,  and  was  happy  in  the 
commendation  and  the  friendliness  of  her  brother-La-law.  On 
her  way  down  to  her  own  room,  however,  it  seemed  as  if  the 
portfolio  had  become  considerably  hghter,  nor  could  she  avoid 
a  certain  imeasy  feeling  in  this  consciousness ;  but  then,  again, 
she  thought  how  her  and  her  brother-in-law's  interests  would 
henceforth  become  one,  both  in  the  great  law-suit  and  out  of 
it ;  and  in  this  way  Aunt  Nella  seemed  to  be  magnanimously 
sacrificing  herself  like  a  real  heroine  of  romance  (and  Aunt 
Nella  was — I  know  not  whether  I  have  mentioned  it  before  or 
not — in  secret  a  great  novel-reader) ;  and  she  foresaw  that  an 
hour  would  come  in  the  course  of  the  great  law-suit,  when 
her  noble  conduct  would  be  made  known,  and  openly  acknow- 
ledged in  some  kind  of  protocol,  because  that  was  the  way  in 
wliich  things  happened  in  the  histories  of  heroines  of  romance. 
Poor  Aunt  Nella ! 

In  the  mean  time  she  enjoyed  the  pleasure  of  being  re- 
garded by  her  brother-in-law,  after  this  evening,  with  quite 
other  eyes  than  formerly;  he  considered  her  evidently  no 
longer  a  single  cypher,  but  four  cyphers  with  a  one  standing 
befoi'e  them. 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  SU.J 


A  MOMENT. 

In  our  northern  folk-songs  there  commonly  occurs  between 
the  minor  key  of  the  beginnmg  and  the  end,  an  interval  of  a 
few  bars  in  the  major  key  which,  in  the  most  delicious  manner, 
soothe  the  ear  and  touch  the  feeUngs,  in  which  the  soul  seems 
to  cast  a  bright  glance,  rich  in  promise,  into  a  future  affluent 
in  spring  and  love.  The  evening  on  which  Yngve,  according 
to  the  appointment  of  the  Dnector,  again  found  himself  at 
Kullen,  resembled  such  a  major  key  in  the  life  of  the  lovers. 

The  Director,  who  seemed  to  have  taken  his  resolution  with 
regard  to  Yngve,  received  him  with  poUteness,  and,  without 
any  repulsive  coldness,  allowed  him  to  explain  his  prosj)ects, 
and  then  rephed  that  he  wished  to  become  better  acquainted 
with  him  ;  wished  him  a  more  important  position  in  society,  as 
well  as  more  certain  prospects  of  an  independent  income  before 
he  could  consent  to  his  marriage  with  Hertha.  Hertha,  it 
was  true,  possessed  some  property  from  her  mother,  but  not 
as  much  as  people  generally  believed ;  and  not  sufficient  of 
itself  for  the  maintenance  of  a  family.  It  was  the  Director's 
duty,  therefore,  as  her  father  and  guardian,  to  watch  over  her 
future  prospects.  The  future  alone  could  decide  the  issue  of 
Yngve's  wishes  with  regard  to  Hertha,  but  he  might  openly 
plead  his  own  cause  with  her,  and  in  the  mean  time  would  be 
Avelcome  to  the  house  of  Hertha's  father. 

All  this  was  reasonable  enough,  and  was  more  than  Yngve 
expected  after  the  scene  of  the  preceding  evening.  He  there- 
fore thanked  the  Director  cordially,  and  expressed  his  hope 
that  before  long  he  might  be  able  to  satisfy  his  reasonable 
demands,  and  offer  to  Hertha  a  position  in  hfe  secure  from 
pecuniary    difficulties.     Yngve   also   contrived  to   create   an 


804  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

interest  in  the  mind  of  tne  Director  for  the  undertakings  in 
which  he  was  interested,  and  in  which  his  future  prospects 
were  involved.  He  produced  altogether  so  agreeable  an  im- 
pression upon  the  Director,  that  he  received  from  him  an 
invitation  to  stay  to  supper. 

Such  an  event  as  a  young  man  being  invited  to  stay  to  sup- 
per, had  not  occurred  for  many  a  long  year,  never  since  the 
time  when  Alma's  lover  visited  with  them. 

The  dining-room  at  KuUen  exhibited  this  evening  an  unu- 
sually agreeable  aspect.  The  large  fire  of  pine-logs,  which 
crackled  and  flamed  merrily,  threw  a  joyous  hght  upon  the 
father  of  the  family,  who  sate  in  a  comfortable  corner,  smok- 
ing his  pipe  and  talking  with  Yngve  about  the  various  schemes 
for  railroads  and  water  conveyances  in  Sweden  and  other 
countries  :  upon  httle  Aunt  Nella,  who  sate  by  the  fire  busily 
winding  ofi"  her  yarn,  and  muttering  to  herself  with  an  unu- 
suaUy  pleased  expression ;  on  the  supper-table,  which  was 
spread  and  adorned  with  flowers  by  Martha  and  Maria ;  and 
lastly  on  Hertha,  who  came  and  went,  as  she  silently  attended 
to  her  household  duties.  She  appeared  to  Yngve,  this  while, 
so  noble  and  beautiful,  that  he  sometimes  became  quite 
absorbed,  and  forgot  that  it  was  needful  to  answer  the  ques- 
tions of  the  Du-ector  about  railroads,  or  else  he  replied  wholly 
at  random.  For  instance,  when  questioned  about  a  certam 
branch  of  railway,  he  answered  hke  one  in  a  di-eam,  "  an 
actual  Iduna!  "  and  as  to  the  direction  of  another  railroad,  he 
replied  with  warmth,  "  to  all  eternity ! " 

The  director  looked  at  him  in  astonishment,  but  when  he 
observed  the  direction  of  his  eyes,  he  smiled,  puflTed  the  smoke 
from  his  tobacco-pipe,  and  did  not  seem  ofiended.  They  had 
scarcely  ever  seen  the  Dkector  so  civil  and  so  kind  to  any  one 
before.  How  happy  the  sight  of  this  made  Hertha,  and  the 
pleasant  anticipations  for  the  futm-e  which  it  gave  rise  to,  both 
in  her  breast  and  that  of  Yngve,  may  easily  be  conceived. 

The  evening  meal  became,  under  these  circumstances,  one 
of  the  most  joyous  which  had  ever  been  partaken  of  in  that 
home.     When  it  was  ended  the  Director  spoke  to  Yngve 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  305 

about  his  mother,  and  now  made  lier,  through  her  son,  that 
offer  of  a  place  in  his  family,  which  Hex-tha  had  prepared  him 
for.  Yngve  perceived  that  the  Director  regarded  this  matter 
as  an  affair  which  would  be  advantageous  to  the  family,  and 
he  silently  commended  her  consideration. 

Before  they  separated  Hertha  led  her  fiiend  into  the  room 
wliich  she  had  prepared  and  arranged  for  his  mother. 

"  See,  Yngve,"  said  she,  "  your  book-case  shall  stand  there, 
and  here  in  this  easy  chair  your  mother  shall  sit,  and  I  here, 
beside  her,  when  we  read  together  your  books  and  your  let- 
ters. Here,  at  this  writing-table,  will  your  mother,  and — I 
also  sometimes — write  to  you." 

Hertha  wished,  in  this  moment  of  separation,  to  leave  upon 
Yngve's  mind  the  impression  of  her  close  connection  with  his 
mother,  and  of  the  hfe  she  would  lead  in  her  new  home.  She 
wished  that  he,  in  memory,  should  see  them  together. 

Yngve  was  at  the  same  time  so  affected,  and  rendered  so 
happy  by  all  that  had  taken  place,  that  when  he  took  leave 
of  Hertha's  sisters,  he  pressed  them  to  his  heart  with  an 
earnest  tenderness  that  at  once  astonished  and  affected  them ; 
he  kissed  Aunt  Nella's  hand  and  then  her  cheek,  which 
caused  her  to  make  such  a  start  of  pleasurable  surprise,  as 
broke  her  yarn-thread ;  for  she  discovered,  all  at  once,  a  great 
resemblance  between  Yngve  and  one  of  the  ball-room  admir- 
ers of  her  young  days,  and  she  began  to  puzzle  her  brain  about 
some  secret  intrigue  in  connection  with  this  circumstance. 
Yngve  was  disposed  to  clasp  the  Director  and  the  whole 
family  in  his  embrace,  but  the  distant  though  polite  demeanor 
of  the  former  checked  any  extraordinary  demonstration  as 
regarded  him.  Nevertheless,  when  Yngve,  mth  an  expression 
of  filial  reverence  and  gratitude  in  his  frank  and  handsome 
countenance,  yet  once  more  shook  his  hand  at  parting,  tlie 
Director  accompanied  him  to  the  door,  and  said,  with  undis- 
guised good-wiU : 

"I  wisli  you  all  success  and  a  happy  return.  You  are  still 
quite  young,  and  while  the  Patriarch  Jacob  could  wait  seven 
years,  and  again  seven  years,  for  his  betrothed,  it  ought  not  to 


30G  THE   POUR   SISTERS, 

appear  long  to  you  to  wait  a  year  or  two  for  one  who  is  dear 
to  you.     Time  flies  fast." 

Hertha,  this  evening,  kissed  her  father's  hand,  as  she  had 
not  kissed  it  since  the  time  when  she  looked  up  to  him  in 
blind  obedience  and  love. 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  307 


SEVEN  YEARS: 
THE  PATRIARCHAL  RELATIONSHIP. 

We  read  in  the  history  of  the  Patriarch  Jacob,  that  the 
seven  years  which  he  served  for  Rachel  "  seemed  to  him  btit  a 
few  days,  for  the  love  he  had  to  her."  And  I  knew  a  Swedish 
girl  who  devoted  herself  for  ten  years  to  wait  upon  her  bhnd 
and  necessitous  father,  and  who,  although  she  was  yoimg  and 
blooming  when  she  entered  upon  this  service,  and  was  pale 
and  withered  when  it  was  ended  (at  her  father's  decease),  yet 
who  found  not  those  ten  years  to  be  either  long  or  oppressive. 
The  reason  of  this  was,  that  affection  had  been  the  impelling 
principle,  had  sustained  the  soul,  given  wings  to  time,  had 
made  even  weariness  dear,  and  changed  life  into  a  beautiful 
pastime. 

How  different  must  it  be  when  the  service  is  for  those  whom 
we  cannot  love,  or  when  force  or  injustice  enchain  the  free 
soul  to  a  lot  which  it  has  not  chosen!  how  oppressive  the 
days  then  become ;  how  intenrunable  the  years ;  how  gloomy 
the  heart,  life,  the  future.  Providence — everything ! 

We  wiU  pass  with  light  and  hasty  steps  over  those  years  of 
Hertha's  history  which  we  have  now  to  describe,  and  only  by 
a  few  touches  delineate  their  lights  and  shadows. 

Half  a  year  after  the  parting  which  we  have  described  in 
the  foregoing  chapter,  Yngve  returned  to  Sweden,  his  health 
re-established,  and  full  of  earnestness,  hope,  and  activity. 
Two  years  afterwards  he  was  advanced  to  a  position  in  his 
profession  which  gave  him  the  certain  prospect  of  a  modest 
competency  for  the  future,  and  he  now  renewed  his  request 
to  Hertha's  fether  for  his  consent  to  then-  union.  Tlie  Director 
rephed  that  he  did  not  consider  Yngve's  prospects  as  yet 


308  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

sufficiently  established.  Besides  which,  his  health,  he  sail, 
was  such  that  he  could  neither  dispense  with  his  daughter's 
care  at  home,  nor  yet  could  he  look  into  the  state  of  her 
property.  He  considered  it  best,  therefore,  that  the  lovers 
should  yet  wait  for  a  year  or  two. 

It  was  now,  that  Hertha  for  the  iirst  time  broke  the  bonds 
of  silence,  Avhich  long  custom  and  inherent  reverence  for  the 
patriarchal  guardianship  had  imposed  upon  her.  She  spoke 
seriously  and  plainly  with  her  father,  reminded  him  of  all  his 
promises,  told  him  of  her  own  human  right  to  dispose  of  her 
own  person,  her  own  property,  and  to  determine  her  own 
future.  She  appealed  to  him  in  the  name  of  justice  and  of 
reason ;  but,  ah !  her  father,  in  his  favor,  could  oppose 
against  her  the  decisions  of  the  law,  "  the  Paternal  Statutes." 
After  he  had  listened  to  her  with  an  almost  spornful  calmness, 
he  proved  to  her  out  of  the  Statute-book  itself,  that  she 
possessed  no  right  at  all  over  her  own  property,  over  herself, 
or  her  future,  otherwise  than  in  as  far  as  her  father  would 
consider  it.  She  was  "  a  minor"  in  the  eye  of  the  law,  and 
was  bound  to  guide  herself  entirely  according  to  the  will  of 
her  guardian.  His  promises  to  her — he  could  not  remember 
having  made  any.  If  he  had  ever  made  any  promises,  it 
could  only  be  on  condition  of  his  fulfilling  them  in  case  he 
found  it  right  to  do  so,  but  that  nobody,  either  by  force  or 
otherwise,  should  compel  him  to  do  anything  which  he  was 
not  wUling  to  do  of  himself  He  was  not  one  who  would 
allow  himself  to  be  compelled.  He  had  now  spoken  his 
mind,  and  there  was  an  end  of  it,  and  people  knew  what  they 
had  to  do. 

Hertha  did  not  this  time  give  way  to  the  proud  feeling 
which  rose  up  withm  her.  She  besought  her  father  to  listen 
to  the  voice  of  reason ;  she  reminded  him,  with  tears,  of 
Alma's  last  prayer.  Nor  did  she  now  even  demand,  she  only 
prayed  on  her  knees  before  him — for  her  freedom,  for  her 
human  right,  which  if  her  father  would  not  grant  her  from  a 
sense  of  justice,  would  he  not  do  so  out  of  kindness  and  mercy  ? 

But  the  Director  at  this  moment  was  excited  beyond  liira- 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS,  309 

self.  "  Did  she  wish  to  kill  him  ?"  he  asked,  "  or  to  drive 
him  mad  ?  Could  she  not  wait  a  year  or  two  ?  IMore  he  did 
not  ask  for."  And  he  ended  by  appealing  to  her  afiection  as 
a  daughter.  "  She  ought  to  obey  her  father.  He  knew 
better  than  she  did  what  would  contribute  to  her  welfare. 
He  did  not  like  sentimental  scenes.  He  knew  what  he  would 
bave,  and  have  it  he  would,  and  there  was  an  end." 

Reader,  if  thou  hast  ever  prayed  for  something  which  was 
right  and  reasonable ;  prayed  earnestly,  put  thy  whole  soul 
iuto  thy  prayer  ;  humbled  thyself,  renounced  thyself  in  order, 
through  love  and  sacrifice,  to  obtain — thy  right,  and  yet 
hast  been  denied,  then  perhaps  wilt  thou  be  able  to  under- 
stand Hertha's  feelings  as  she  arose  from  her  humble  position 
at  her  father's  knee.  Pale,  rigid,  with  a  gloomy  expression 
of  eye,  and  with  a  dark  presentiment  in  her  soul,  she  rose 
slowly  and  left  the  room  without  saying  a  word.  But  her 
soul  was  in  a  state  of  tumult. 

She  was  calmer,  but  gloomily  resolute,  when  on  the  after- 
noon of  the  same  day  she  related  the  result  of  her  conversa- 
tion with  her  father  to  Yngve  and  Judge  Carlson,  who  came 
on  purpose  to  hear  it. 

Both  were  exceedingly  angry,  and  advised  her  to  appeal  to 
the  courts  of  justice,  and  let  them  decide  between  her  and  her 
unreasonable  father.  Without  doubt  they  would  decide  in 
her  favor. 

"  I  beUeve  so  too,"  said  Hertha :  "  but  one  thing  is  certain, 
and  that  is,  that  I  shall  never  appeal  to  them  to  obtain  my 
rights  against  my  father." 

"  Then  you  do  not  love  me,"  exclaimed  Tngve,  reproach- 
fully; "you  wiU  let  me  die  of  Tantalus-agony  rather  than 
consent  to  a  bold  but  rational  procedure.  You  do  not  under- 
stand my  affection  for  you — you  cannot  have  the  same  for  me. 
You  are  afraid  of  your  father — afraid  of  the  world's  judgment 
of  you, — I  am  nothing  to  you — my  life  and  my  happiness  are 
nothing  to  you." 

Hertha  fixed  upon  Yngve  a  look  of  unspeakable  reproachful 
anguish,  but  she  said  not  a  word. 


310  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

"  I  honor  your  delicacy  of  feeling,  your  sense  of  filial  duty," 
said  Judge  Carlson,  "but  these  may  be  carried  too  far. 
Reflect  that  you  sacrifice  both  your  own  and  another's  future 
for  egotistical  perversity,  for  unbounded  obstinacy.  And  you 
have  already  mentioned  to  me  your  anxiety  about  your 
father's  afiaii'S,  and  his  ability  to  manage  them — reflect, 
therefore,  that  you  are  probably  sacrificing  not  only  your  own, 
but  your  sisters'  property,  which  is  in  his  hands, — as  well  as 
their  future  prospects." 

Hertha  bowed  her  head  into  her  hands  and  sat  for  a  mo- 
ment silent.  When  she  again  raised  her  countenance  it  was 
bathed  in  tears. 

"  Oh,  my  friends,"  said  she,  "  do  not  be  angry  with  me.  I 
cannot  do  otherwise ;  my  conscience  forbids  me.  Because  my 
father  is  an  unreasonable  father,  must  I  be  an  unnatural 
daughter  ?  Must  I  rise  up  against  him  who  gave  me  hfe,  and 
embitter  his  life  ? — cast  a  shadow  upon  him  through  the  whole 
kingdom — reveal  his  weakness  or  his  injustice  ?  No ;  I  will 
not  merit  the  reproach  of  having  acted  unworthily  as  a 
daughter.  I  should  in  that  case  consider  myself  unworthy 
of  being  one  day  a  mother.  No  ;  I  will  not  appear  publicly 
as  an  accuser  of  my  father.  Rather  let  Yngve  and  me  wait 
patiently — die,  if  so  it  must  be.  I  will  do  all  that  Hes  m  my 
power,  all  that  can  be  done  by  the  performance  of  duty, 
by  persuasion — and  perhaps  a  time  may  come  when  my 
father's  heart  will  not  be  so  closed  against  me  as  now ;  but 
never,  never  will  I  through  force  and  compulsion  deserve  his 
hatred,  his  curse.  And  if  you  can  accuse  me  for  this,  Yngve, 
you  are  no  longer  the  noble,  the  right-minded  Yngve  whom  I 
loved." 

"  But  your  sisters  ?"  resumed  the  lawyer. 

"  Show  me,"  said  Hertha,  "  a  way  of  securing  their  future 
prospects,  without  giving  a  death-blow  to  our  father's  respec- 
tabihty,  and  to  his  life,  perhaps,  by  my  laying  before  the 
monarch  and  the  nation  my  suspicions  of  his  stewardship  of 
our  property.  Can  you  show  me  any  other  way  ?  Do  cut 
laws  afibrd  no  other  means  ?" 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  311 

Both  Carlson  and  Yngve  "were  silent.     Hertha  rose  up. 

"  Give  me  your  hands,"  said  she,  "  you  cannot  disapprove 
of  my  feelings.  Support  me  rather  in  the  severe  time  of  trial 
which  is  at  hand,  Yngve !" — Hertha's  glance  spoke  what  no 
words  could  exi^ress,  the  suffering  which  she  endured  on  his 
account. 

He  understood  her  looks,  and  replied  by  clasping  her  to  his 
heart. 

"  Forgive  me !"  whispered  he ;  "  never  more  shall  you  hear 
a  reproachful  word  from  me." 

Yngve's  resolution  was,  however,  taken  at  this  moment. 
He  would  separate  himself  for  a  time  both  from  Hertha  and 
his  native  land,  and  accept  a  professional  offer  wliich  had  been 
made  to  hun  abroad,  and  which  afforded  him  more  advan- 
tageous prospects  than  he  had  at  present  in  Sweden.  For  it 
was  to  him  unendurable  to  live  near  Hertha  under  the  con- 
straint which  his  half-engagement  to  her  and  her  own  wishes 
imposed.  And  he  was  right.  Hertha  did  not  love  Yngve  as 
he  loved  her.  ISTo  woman  can  fully  understand  the  passion 
which  glows  in  the  whole  being  of  the  enamored  young  man, 
nor  can  she  participate  it.  She  loves  equally  as  much,  often 
more,  or  better  than  he,  but  in  quite  another  manner. 

Carlson  contemplated  the  two  young  friends  with  deep  sym- 
pathy, and  Hertha  with  real  admiration,  because  he  perfectly 
miderstood  her. 

"  Remember  your  promise,"  said  he  to  her  at  the  close  of 
this  interview,  "  to  make  use  of  me  whenever  you  may  want 
the  help  of  a  fatherly  friend,  of  one  who  would  be  a  father  to 
you,  and — would  to  God  that  I  were  so !" 

Yngve  set  off  soon  afterwards  -with  one  of  his  young  friends 
to  Piedmont,  whither  his  new  engagement  called  him.  Judge 
Carlson  removed  to  his  magisterial  district.  Hertha  remained 
alone  in  her  father's  house. 

The  Dkector's  health  improved  somewhat  during  the  follow- 
ing year,  in  the  course  of  which  he  received  various  flattering 
pubUc  marks  of  honor.  He  had  made  himself  known  and 
esteemed  as  a  clever  and  unflinching  servant  of  the  government. 


312  TItE   FOLK   SISTEKS. 

and  therefore  the  order  of  the  Knight  of  the  ISTorth  Star  was 
conferred  upon  hmi  witli  the  title  of  Chief  Director,  and  his 
name  was  changed  to  that  of  Falkenhjelm,  which  name  was 
borne  by  an  elder  branch  of  the  same  family.  He  was  spoken 
of  in  general  as  a  "  substantial  old  fellow,"  a  "  close  man,"  a 
"  prudent  man,"  a  "  clever  old  gentleman,"  and  so  on,  and 
regarded  as  a  man  of  great  practical  understanding,  as  well  as 
substantial  wealth.  Meantime  the  mysterious  laAv-suit  pro- 
ceeded, regarding  which  Aunt  Nella  continued  in  profound 
silence,  to  give  significant  looks  and  put  on  an  important  air, 
but  about  which,  from  fear  of  her  brother-in-law's  displeasure, 
she  never  dared  to  speak  aloud,  and  about  which  he  himself 
never  spoke,  excepting  to  the  lawyer  to  whom  he  had  intrusted 
his  cause,  and  with  whom  he  had  long  and  mysterious  con- 
ferences. This  law-suit  and  these  conferences  had  evidently 
a  great  influence  upon  the  Director's  temper,  which  in  con- 
sequence became  more  and  more  gloomy  and  irascible,  in  spite 
of  the  hght  which  was  cast  from  the  sun  of  royal  favor  over 
his  civil  services.  Hertha,  who  sometimes  doubted  the  justice 
of  her  suspicions  regarding  her  father's  mismanagement  of  the 
family  projjerty,  became  nevertheless  uneasy  at  the  repeated 
proofs  which  occurred  of  his  failing  memory  and  impaired 
powers  of  mind,  but  still  she  could  not  even  here  attain  to  full 
certainty. 

There  occuiTed  at  this  time  in  her  life,  one  of  those  long 
states  of  twilight,  which  are  so  general  in  the  lives  of  women 
in  the  north,  especially  in  Sweden ;  states  of  twihght  during 
which  every  object  is  involved  in  shadows,  and  when  one  can 
only  act  or  work  inasmuch  as  the  little  flame  one  lights  can 
enable  one  to  see  ;  states  which  wonderfully  remind  us  of  the 
Scandinavian  "  Hades,"  that  wonderful  world  of  mist,  full  of 
rain-clouds,  and  shapeless  magical  forms,  and  clammy,  poi- 
sonous rivers. 

But  there  are  two  kinds  of  twilight,  that  of  evening,  and 
that  of  the  morning.  The  former  deepens  into  night ;  the 
latter  brightens  into  day.  Weak  or  melancholy  temperaments 
belong  to  the  former,  but  energetic  souls,  and  those  also  in 


THE    FOUR   SISTERS.  313 

which  the  strength  of  God's  love  has  kindled  its  ele-vating 
flame,  are — yes,  even  if  the  whole  of  their  earthly  life  con- 
tinues m  twilight — they  are  the  children  of  the  rosy  morning, 
and  their  souls  and  their  labors  are  tinged  by  its  celestial 
glow. 

We  need  not  say  to  which  of  these  two  classes  Hertha 
belonged;  Her  energetic  soul,  the  light  which  came  to  her 
from  the  friend  who  reconciled  her  to  life ;  faith  in  a  superin- 
tending, fatherly  providence,  which  never  deserted  her,  since 
she  had  so  evidently  perceived  its  guidance  in  her  heart,  in  her 
hfe ;  the  purity  and  beauty  of  her  connection  with  Yngve ; 
the  conviction  that  she  had  acted  according  to  the  highest 
dictates  of  duty  and  conscience — all  these  helped  her  to  over- 
come the  bitterness  which  unjust  power  awoke  within  her, 
helped  her  also  during  the  imhappy  continuance  of  twilight  in 
her  life  and  home,  to  kindle  a  light  which  did  not  merely 
enhghten  herself  but  others  also, — nay,  indeed  almost  every 
one  who  came  within  her  sphere  of  life. 

Towards  her  father  she  continued  to  be  an  obedient  and 
careful  daughter,  even  when  she  was  obliged  to  give  up  all 
hope  of  finding  in  him  a  fatherly  support  in  any  respect.  Love 
him  she  could  not,  neither  show  him  the  love,  the  sweet,  affec- 
tionate attention  which  lovr  only  can  inspire.  And  although 
he  received  all  that  he  demanded;  punctuahty,  obedience, 
order  in  everything  which  concerned  him, — he  complained  not 
unfrequently  to  his  faithful,  old  servant  of  his  eldest  daughter's 
obstinacy,  want  of  affection,  and  insubordination  towards  him. 
She  was,  he  said,  of  an  inflexible  character,  who  would  not  take 
the  pains  to  please  her  fathei',  or  make  him  happy ;  she  was 
stubborn,  irreconcilable,  imforgiving,  selfish,  and  so  on. 

Oh,  thou  fool !  Thou  desirest  love  and  reconciliation,  but 
thou  thyself  exhibitest  the  opposite ;  thou  complainest  of  cold- 
ness and  want  of  feeling  in  look  and  manner,  and  thou  thyseli' 
art  the  cause  of  this  by  thy  own  behavior,  thou  thyself  doing 
nothing  to  call  forth  kindly  feelings.  She  of  whom  thou  corn- 
plainest  may  have  treasures  of  love  and  tenderness  in  her  heart, 
but  thou  wilt  never  experience  them,  and  thou  wilt  never  be 


314  THE  FOUR   SISTERS, 

able  to  see  a  true  glance  from  those  eyes,  because  thou  hast 
excluded  from  thee  the  sunlight  of  those  eyes,  by  thy  unwor- 
thmess,  thy  severity ;  thou  hast  built  up  a  granite  wall  between 
that  eye  and  thine  own.  Thou  fool !  which  seest  the  mote  m 
thy  neighbor's  eye  and  perceivest  not  the  beam  which  is  in 
thine  own,  accuse  thyself,  and  become  different  to  Avhat  thou 
art !  That  soul  is  cold,  thou  sayest.  What  if  she  b*e  merely 
true  and  honest  towards  herself  and  thee  ?  Better,  nobler  is 
it  that  she  show  herself  as  she  is,  than  that  she  should  dissem- 
ble an  affection,  act  a  lie  by  appearing  agreeable  to  thee,  Avhen 
she  neither  does  nor  can  feel  so.  Esteem  and  love  will  not 
come  at  call.     They  must  be  won. 

Attachment  to  Yngve's  gentle  mother,  as  well  as  to  her 
yoimg  sisters,  were  the  Ught  in  Hertha's  domestic  life,  and  by 
degrees  a  fresh  light  dawned  in  that  active  employment,  of 
which  we  have  spoken,  and  which  gave  new  life  to  her  soul. 

During  the  three  years  which  Hertha  devoted  to  those  pre- 
paratory studies  which  she  herself  considered  absolutely  neces- 
sary, before  bringing  into  operation  the  educational  institute 
which  it  was  her  intention  to  establish,  she  was  fortunate 
enough  to  become  acquainted  with  two  men  of  more  than  ordi- 
nary knowledge  and  elevation  of  mind.  They  had  become 
attached  to  her  as  brothers,  and  ii  aparted  to  her  the  wealth  of 
theu'  OAvn  large  views  and  praciical  knowledge,  than  which 
nothing  could  be  more  valuable  to  her,  whilst  they  themselves 
were,  in  a  high  degree,  benefited  by  the  noble  spirit  and  life 
of  this  extraordinary  young  woman.  Hertha  came  to  expe- 
rience that  which  she,  who  now  traces  the  history  of  her  life, 
also  has  experienced,  and  which  will  ever  live  in  her  grateful 
memory  as  one  of  her  most  precious  human  experiences,  that 
however  unfavorable  the  laws  and  spirit  of  society  may  be  to 
the  fuU  development  of  woman,  yet  that  it  seldom,  if  ever  hap- 
pened, that  a  woman,  gifted  with  any  unusual  powers  of  mind 
or  gifts  of  genius,  does  not  sooner  or  later  find  manly  fi-ienda 
who  faithfully  offer  their  hands  to  help  her  to  attain  the  object 
towards  which  her  natural  gifts  prompt  her. 

It  is  another  question  whether  this  extension  of  help  can  ever 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  315 

become  sufficient,  whether  it  does  not  always  come  too  late,  or 
is  of  necessity  too  partial  to  admit  of  her  full  development. 
"  No  one,"  "wrote  Mozart,  on  one  occasion,  to  a  dilettante 
music-composer,  "  can  ever,  after  all,  become  a  master,  who 
has  not  already  from  childhood  had  experience  of  the  master's 
'  donnerwetter''  and  the  discipline  of  the  school."  Certain  it  is, 
that  technical  certainty,  clear  insight  into  means  and  purposes 
as  well  as  the  application  of  our  o"\vn  powers,  are  not  obtained 
without  early,  sure  guidance,  long  practice  and  trial.  Help- 
less deficiency  adheres  even  to  genius  which  has  been  long  left 
to  guide  itself  in  the  wide  world  by  its  own  wUl. 

Hertha,  with  deep  sorrow,  soon  discovered  aU  this ;  dis- 
covered with  what  helpless  deficiency  she  would  have  to  com- 
bat in  herself,  before  she  could  accomplish  her  purpose.  Her 
courageous  spirit,  however,  admonished  her  steadfastly  to 
persevere  towards  the  object  which  she  had  set  before  herself 
"  There  are  subjects,  after  all,"  said  she  to  herself,  "  on  which 
I  can  give  instructions  to  young  light-seeking  souls,  better 
than  even  the  most  learned  men," 

In  the  mean  time  it  soon  became  evident  to  her  that,  in 
order  to  render  her  plan  effective,  it  must  be  carried  out  in  a 
form  more  in  accordance  with  the  views  and  the  point  of  sight 
from  which  the  circle  in  which  she  moved  looked  at  things. 
To  accompHsh  even  this,  her  position  in  the  family,  as  regarded 
money  and  her  father's  peculiar  temper,  compelled  her  to 
endeavor,  by  her  own  labor,  to  obtain  the  means  of  putting 
her  plans  in  execution. 

Many  of  our  young  readers  have  doubtless  wondered  already 
why  Hertha  did  not  endeavor,  by  means  of  authorsliip,  to 
acquire  this  needful  independence.  But  Hertha  knew  that 
she  was  not  possessed  of  the  necessary  gifts  for  this  purpose  ; 
she  did  not  write  as  a  matter  of  choice ;  she  talked  better 
than  she  wrote.  Action  and  life  were  the  springs  of  her 
inspiration;  it  was  when  in  living  contact  with  other  souls 
that  her  own  soul  felt  and  extended  its  wings.  Besides — but  we 
wiU  let  her  speak  for  herself  in  some  of  the  entries  in  her  diary  : 

"  May  \s%  18 — .    I  have  determined  to  commence  a  week- 


316  THE   FOLK   SISTERS. 

day  school,  or  Pension^  as  it  is  called,  where  j'oung  girls  shall 
be  taught  everything  which  is  considered  especially  necessary 
for  them  in  this  world  ;  that  is  to  say,  languages,  history,  geo- 
graphy, needlework,  drawing,  music,  etc. ;  all  of  which  are 
unquestionably  good  ;  and  this  school  will  aid  me  in  carrying 
out  my  plan  for  the  other  higher  school,  devoted  to  the 
exercises  of  the  soul  and  the  powers  of  mind ;  but  which  I 
think  of  styling  '  Practices  in  Language  and  Conversation,' 
in  order  not  to  awaken  any  '  uneasiness  in  the  camp,'  or  any 
suspicion  of  any  schemes  of  emancipation.  The  week-day 
school,  in  which  I  shall  be  assisted  by  a  male  and  female 
teacher,  will  assemble  every  day.  The  higher,  holiday-school, 
for  the  practice  of  language  and  conversation,  only  twice  in 
the  M^eek ;  and  only  voluntary  or  select  pupils  shall  be  admitted 
to  it.  The  entrance  to  the  former  school  shall  be  by  payment : 
to  the  latter  only  by  Love  to  the  Eternal. 

"  In  the  mean  time  I  must  have  some  money  to  provide  a 
store  of  books  and  materials  for  the  week-day  school,  and  for 
this  I  must  go  to  my  father.  I  shall  beg  him  to  let  me  have 
the  small  sum  of  interest  due  upon  my  maternal  inheritance. 
I  will  only  ask  for  that  which  is  my  oAvn,  and  as  a  means  of 
providing  a  future  competence  ;  nevertheless,  I  have  a  bitter 
presentiment  that  I  shall  be  refused.  But  I  must  make  the 
attempt.  Alas,  that  the  making  of  a  reasonable  request  to  a 
father  should  be  felt  as  a  something  dreadful !  " 

"  May  Srd.  My  presentiment  was  right.  I  received  a  nega- 
tive reply.  '  Such  were  unnecessary  establishments,'  he  said, 
'  and  served  only  to  make  girls  full  of  pretension,  unpractical, 
and  useless  at  home,'  etc.  etc.  *  There  Avas,  besides,  already  a 
girls'  school  in  the  town,  and  that  was  more  than  enough. 
Another  could  not  support  itself'  '  It  was  the  duty  of  a 
guardian,'  he  said,  '  to  see  that  the  minor's  property  was  not 
misapplied,  but  that,  on  the  contrary,  it  was  augmented  by 
the  interest  being  added  to  the  principal,  and  that  such  duty 
he  would  fulfil,  so  long  as  it  lay  in  his  power.'  '  I  could  do 
just  as  I  liked  about  the  school,  but  I  must  not  look  to  him 
for  any  money.' 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  31T 

"I  have  now  written,  therefore,  to  Judge  Carlson,  and  asked 
him  for  a  loan.  It  is  A'ery  repugnant  to  my  feelings  to  do  so, 
but  it  is  my  only  resource.  I  shall  see  whether  he  will  keep 
his  promise. 

"  '  Cannot  you  grind  ?'  I,  on  one  occasion,  heard  a  "svitty, 
elderly  lady  say,  with  a  cunning  smile,  to  another,  who  com- 
plained that  she  could  not  get  her  husband  to  perform  a 
promise  which  he  had  given  her.  And  there  is,  I  know,  a 
certain  grinding  in  the  house,  a  perpetual  recurrence  of 
reminding,  bothering,  worrying,  which,  with  the  addition  of 
black  looks,  tears,  or  cold,  cutting  words  and  looks,  is  able  to 
overcome  the  stoutest  resistance,  and  give  such  as  are  clever 
in  this  art  an  incalculable  power  of  obtaining  whatever  they 
wish  for.  But  another  thing  I  know  also,  and  that  is,  that  I 
neither  can  nor  will  avail  myself  of  such  ways  and  means. 
The  royal  way  of  love  and  truth  is  the  only  one  which  I  wiU 
take.  And  the  society  or  the  house  in  which  the  object  is 
attained  less  easily  by  this  means  than  by  subterranean  or 
crooked  ways,  has  something  wrong  in  it." 

'■'•May  lOth.  May  the  noble  Judge  Carlson  forgive  me  for 
having,  for  one  moment,  doubted  of  his  chivalrous  spirit :  may 
he  forgive  me  for  not  having  entirely  relied  upon  his  friend- 
ship and  his  promise  !  He  has  now,  both  by  Avord  and  deed, 
proved  himself  my  fiiend.  Father  in  heaven!  this  is  Thy 
work,  and  thy  brmging  about !  Henceforth  I  will  alone  look 
up  to  Thee  for  help  and  counsel ;  alone  follow  Thy  guidance  ! 
Thou  wilt  stand  by  me.  And  now,  henceforward — hencefor- 
ward prayer  and  work !" 

In  the  autumn  of  the  same  year  Hertha  wi'Ote : 

"  November  1st.  My  week-day  school  flourishes  greatly ; 
more  pupils  offer  themselves  than  I  expected.  It  gives  me  a 
great  deal  of  work,  and  not  of  the  kind  wliich  I  love !  I  can- 
not begin  my  holiday-school  till  the  new  year." 

Early  in  the  year  we  accordingly  find  the  following  entry  in 
Hertha's  Diary : 

^^  January  I8th.  I  have  begun  ray  lessons  in  language  and 
conversation  with  some  of  the  elder  girls,  by  the  reading  of 


318  THE   FOUR  SISTERS. 

Sophocles'  Antigone  ;  tliat  glorious  woman,  who,  faithful  both 
by  word  and  deed  to  the  law  of  conscience  and  duty,  defies 
the  strong  command  of  the  tyrant,  the  slavish  usages  of 
society,  her  sister's  timid  counsel,  and  even  the  prayers  of  her 
beloved,  and  stands  fast  in  death,  appeaUng  to 


which, 


The  law  infallible ;  unwritten  law  supreme, 


From  to-day  dates  not,  nor  yet  from  yesterday ;  but 
From  eternity,  the  moment  known  to  no  man ; 


She  who,  with  all  youth  and  womanhood's  deep  feeling  of  the 
glory  of  life,  and  natural  horror  of  the  fearflil  death  which  she 
knew  lay  before  her,  if  she  persisted  m  the  defiance  of  injus- 
tice, yet  still  persevered,  still  stood  firm,  and  although,  in  her 
last  moment,  half  doubting  even  the  justice  of  the  Gods, 
doubted  not  the  voice  of  truth  in  the  depth  of  her  own  con- 
science, but  in  entire  self-consciousness  accused  her  father's 
city,  because  she  had  to  suffer  and  die  for  havmg — 

Held  that  as  sacred  which  in  truth  is  sacred. 

"  Tliis  glorious  image  of  the  heroine  of  conscience,  may 
lead  my  young  girls  to  rmderstand  more  fully  the  ideal  of  the 
Christian  woman,  not  merely  (as  is  now  so  common)  one- 
sided in  humihty,  which  so  easily  becomes  slavish,  but  also  in 
heroism. 

"  I  read  this  tragedy  of  Sophocles  m  the  German  translation 
for  the  sake  of  the  language,  and  we  aflei'wards  conversed  on 
what  we  had  read.  I  have  encouraged  the  young  people  to 
wi-ite  down  their  thoughts  on  this  subject  before  our  next 
meeting.  It  will  exercise  them  in  thiukmg  on  topics  which 
give  strength  to  the  moral  being." 

"  March  1st.  We  have  finished  the  reading  of  Antigone, 
and  I  am  pleased  with  the  result  of  this  experiment.  Among 
the  ten  young  gu'ls  who  attend  my  hohday-school,  are  some 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  319 

who  have  received  a  lasting  impression  from  this  reading  ;  all 
have  in  some  degree  become  elevated  by  it,  and  theii*  inward 
sight  has  become  clearer. 

"  Aurora,  whose  character  and  natural  gifts  impel  her  to  a 
strong  demonstration  of  her  feelings,  and  who  certainly  will 
sometime  be  distinguished  (if  she  can  develope  herself)  as  an 
artist  or  a  poetess,  has  learned  fi-om  Antigone  to  disregard 
minor  inspii-ations  and  petty  conquests.  She  will  allow  herself 
to  be  inspired  alone  by  the  Sun. 

"  JEva  and  Maria,  those  Egeria-natures,  who  would  rather 
live  concealed  in  the  sacred  grove  from  which  they  wdiisper 
the  pure  teachings  of  wisdom  into  the  listener's  ear,  have 
learned  from  Antigone  faith  in  and  dependence  upon  them- 
selves or  upon  the  inner  voice,  which  reveals  itself  during 
the  intercourse  mth  God. 

"  Martha,  the  prosaic  and  practical  nature,  has  learned  that 
with  her  more  earthly  gifts  and  power  she  also  may  become  a 
servant  of  the  Highest," 

Here  follows  a  description  of  the  talents  and  dis]30sitions  of 
many  other  young  girls ;  but  as  it  would  not  greatly  interest 
the  reader,  we  pass  it  over,  and  introduce  two  later  entries  in 
the  diary,  by  which  it  will  be  seen  how  Hertha's  plan  arranged 
itself,  and  cleared  up  before  her  mind's  eye. 

In  May  she  wrote  as  follows  : — 

"  We  shall  now  undertake  exercises  in  the  French  and 
Enghsh  languages,  the  purport  of  which  shall  be  the  contem- 
plation of  the  womanly  Christian  consciousness  in  relation  to 
a  certain  given  mission  or  vocation  i'  i  society,  through  pecu- 
liar gifts  or  calling.  The  biography  of  noble  and  distinguish- 
ed women,  either  celebrated  or  known  but  of  few,  will  serve 
as  the  text  for  our  contemplation. 

"  The  consciousness  of  thought  ought  to  be  a  living  obser- 
vation and  will.     Biography  is  excellent  for  this  pur2:>ose. 

"This  will  be  preparatory  to  Conversations  on  Society 
We  will  contemplate  in  their  mutual  relationship,  families, 
communities,  states,  arts,  sciences,  and  finally  the  Church, 
as  the  mother,  imder  whose  protection  these  various  hmbs 


320  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

grow  into  one  body  and  one  soul  in  the  kingdom  of  God — tlie 
highest  community,  in  which  every  natural  gift  is  ennobled  to 
a  gift  of  mercy.  The  most  noble  heroes  of  family-love,  of 
social-love  (that  is  of  humanity),  of  art  and  science,  will  en- 
lighten us  in  our  endeavor  to  understand  the  importance  of 
each  in  life,  and  in  the  extension  of  the  kingdom  of  God 
on  earth. 

"  The  conversation  on  Society  will  lead  us  to  its  innermost 
life  and  guiding  power — Religion.  Read  :  General  history  of 
Religion ;  the  biography  of  the  various  founders  of  Religion. 
The  relationship  of  natural  religion,  so  called,  to  revealed ; 
its  light,  its  darkness,  its  insufficiency  to  solve  the  enigma  of 
existence,  to  answer  the  requirements  and  the  questionings  of 
the  human  heart.  The  doctrines  of  the  Christian  religion : 
God  in  Christ.     The  history  of  Jesus  Christ. 

"  The  ideal  and  the  reality  of  society.  The  Christian  work 
oF  redemption  in  the  soul  and  in  the  world. 

"  Woman's  part  ia  the  work  ;  her  peculiar  vocation  and 
position  in  society.  Her  character,  her  duties,  her  rights. 
Her  vocation  as  Mother,  or  nurse,  or  whatever  else  she 
may  be.  Her  power  as  such  influential.  Without  Egeria 
no  Numa. 

"Woman  in  Sweden.  Her  position,  past  and  present. 
Swedish  women  in  the  history  of  their  country.  The  future 
of  the  Swedish  woman,  and  her  influence  on  the  futui'e  of 
Sweden. 

"  My  young  girls  must  learn  to  think  highly  of  their  native 
land,  highly  of  their  own  mission,  but  not,  therefore,  highly 
of  themselves.  They  must  ever  look  above  themselves,  who 
are  to  grow  contmually. 

"  Read  the  Vala-Song.  Its  last  prediction,  the  renewal  of 
the  heavens,  the  education  of  the  new  human  race,  '  born 
of  the  morning  dew,'  in  the  sacred  grove,  can  only  be  accom- 
plished by  the  second  Eve,  the  woman  born  anew  in  God. 

"  Natui-al  history,  in  its  more  profound  relationship  to 
human  life,  must  also  become  a  subject  for  the  Conversation- 
lessons  of  the  holiday  school,  when — Yngve  comes  home,  and 


THE   FOUR  SISTERS.  321 

can  teach  and  help  me  to  initiate  the  young  girls  into  its  sanc- 
tuary." 

"  June. — Intercourse  with  these  young  souls  is  like  a  refresh- 
ing vernal  breeze  to  my  soul ;  it  is  beautiful  to  see  the  Hght 
of  dawn  in  them,  and  to  anticipate  a  fuller  day  in  their 
life! 

"If  I  could  surround  them  mth  noble  and  beautiful  objects 
in  the  hohday-school,  their  consecration  to  the  high  and  the 
holy  would  be  powerfully  promoted.  We  shall  see  !  I  some- 
times think  of  fitting  up  the  orangery,*  which  is  now  quite 
empty,  as  a  room — such  as  I  see  in  my  waking  dreams.  A 
statue  of  the  northern  goddess  of  youth,  Iduna,  stands  in  the 
centre, — around,  on  pedestals,  busts  of  the  heroes  of  humani- 
ty ;  at  the  farther  end  the  statue  of  Christ,  after  Thorwaldsen, 
the  best  which  I  have  yet  seen ;  for  the  rest  a  few  good 
pictures,  and  beautiful  plants ;  and  amid  all  these  the  young 
human  souls  who  will  here  advance  in  the  worship  and  service 
of  the  Divine !  Oh,  if  it  could  only  be  so !  Even  the 
Christian  temple  has  a  gate  which  is  called  'the  Beautiful !'" 

'"'•July. — The  summer  is  glorious  this  year.  I  take  my 
young  gu'ls  out  in  the  woods  and  the  fields ;  it  is  refreshing  to 
both  soul  and  body.  We  botanise  together,  and  I  talk  Avith 
them  of  their  relationship  with  natm-e,  and  of  the  Ufe  of 
nature,  'the  sighs  of  the  animal  creation,'  and  its  explanation 
in  a  '  new  heaven  and  a  new  earth.'  Read  with  them  beneath 
the  great  ash-trees,  our  deep-thoughted  northern  legends,  of 
the  Neck,  the  Hill-people,  &c.,  from  the  Swedish  Sagas. 

"  Our  Conversation-lessons  have,  during  these  beautiful 
evenings,  been  held  in  the  open  air.  There  we  have  read  the 
Northern  Mythology,  and  have  contemplated  the  truth  in  its 
scenes  and  symbols.  In  the  evening  the  girls  danced  on  the 
grass,  and  it  was  a  delight  to  see  fresh,  life-enjoying  youth, 
thus  rejoice  in  and  beautify  nature.  All  educational  institu- 
tions for  girls  ought  to  be  in  the  country. 

*  A  large  room  with  lofty  windows,  wMch  extended  from  one  end  of 
the  house  at  Kullen. 

20 


322  THE   FOUR  SISTERS. 

"  I  have  written  to  Yngve  about  my  schools,  and  my  future 
plans  regardmg  them.  His  letters  always  strengthen  and 
encourage  me,  but  they  distress  me  at  the  same  time,  because 
he  is  evidently  not  happy,  although  he  never  complains.  Oh, 
Yngve !  neither  do  I  repose  upon  roses !" 

Towards  the  close  of  the  year  we  find  this  entry : 

"I  am  very  weary  after  many  sleepless  nights  spent  in 
preparation  for  the  examination  of  the  week-day  pupils,  wind- 
ing up  the  accounts  of  the  year,  &c.,  together  with  the  fear, 
the  conviction  that  Httle  or  no  profit  wiU  accrue  to  me,  after 
paying  ofl"  the  loan  and  other  expenses.  My  holiday-school 
wiU  have  to  wait  a  long  time  for  the  beautifal  hall. 

"  Yngve,  Yngve !  my  soul  cries  after  thee.  I  can  disj)ense 
with  marriage,  but  not  with  thy  presence,  thy  sympathy ;  not 
with  the  joy  of  seeing  thee,  of  attending  to  thy  happiness,  my 
fiiend,  brother,  Husband  before  God !  Something  within  my 
soul  tells  me  that  thou  standest  in  need  of  me,  of  my  care,  my 
love.  It  is  midnight,  all  are  sleeping  around  me, — my  heart 
wakes,  and  thinks,  Yngve,  of  thee !" 

'"'■New  Year'' s  Day.  A  letter  from  Yngve,  and  in  it  a  bill  of 
exchange.  Yngve  says  that  he  wiU  pay  for  his  mothei-'s  board 
in  my  father's  house.  But  so  much,  Yngve !  much  more  than 
— ^but  I  understand  thee,  and  am  no  longer  proud  towards 
thee.  I  will  do  as  thou  wishest,  Yngve,  with  regard  to  the 
beautifiil  hall, — ^the  Iduna-hall,  as  it  shall  henceforth  be  called, 
— and  a  couple  of  youths  shall  be  admitted  to  its  school  in 
memory  of  thee. 

"  I  have  also  had  a  letter  from  Rudolph  to-day,  and  a  small 
sum  of  money  '  for  the  sufierers  by  the  fire,'  writes  he.  Poor 
Rudolph !'' 

In  the  following  autumn  Hertha  wrote : 

"  My  hohday-school  begins  to  be  celebrated,  Yngve,  and  is 
visited  by  some  distinguished  ladies  and  men  of  great  intel- 
lect, who  take  an  interest  in  it.  It  pleases  me  on  account  of 
my  young  girls,  to  whom  it  is  beneficial  to  listen  to  the 
thoughts  and  conversation  of  the  visitors.  Yet  it  is  a  restraint 
on  theii"  cheerfulness,  and  ft)r  this  reason  I  receive  these  large 


THE   FOrR   SISTERS.  323 

parties  but  once  a  week.  Besides  curiosity  attracts  many  to 
tlie  Iduna-hall,  who  have  no  fresh,  life-giving  fi-uits  to  commu- 
nicate. And,  let  it  be  as  it  may,  the  young  ones  and  I  are 
happier  by  ourselves.  The  bashftd  Eva,  my  thoughtful,  quiet 
Maria,  and  Aurora,  ovei-flowing  with  life,  as  she  is,  are  never 
quite  themselves  excepting  at  such  times.  Aurora  has  yet  to 
acquire  ease  and  tact,  but  she  has  unusual  powers  both  of  head 
and  heart ;  she  is  the  only  one  of  my  young  girls  who  betrays 
genius.  The  youths  were  uncertain  and  bashful  at  the  com- 
mencement, but  they  are  beginning  now  to  exhibit  themselves 
in  a  beautiful  light,  and  they  seem  to  be  happy  amongst  us.  I 
feel  for  them,  as  for  the  girls,  a  maternal  tenderness,  and  it  is 
delightful  to  me  to  see  theii*  confidence  in  me. 


"  A  few  days  ago  a  young  man  called  on  me,  who  had  once 
been  my  protector  when  I  stood  in  need  of  one.  He  now 
wished  for  the  situation  of  tutor  in  my  week-day-school,  and  I 
was  fortunate  enough  to  be  able  to  give  it  to  him;  for  this 
school  also  must  be  extended  to  receive  all  the  pupils  which 
are  offered.  Olof  E.  is  a  young  man  of  noble  character,  and 
M^iU  be  a  support  to  the  day-school  and  a  welcome  participator 
in  our  evening  conversations. 


"  Last  evening  the  Conversation  in  the  Iduna-hall  was  unu- 
sually animated,  I  might  say  brilliant.  It  was  my  great  recep- 
tion evening,  and  I  proposed  'The  Right  Comprehension  of 
Liberty  of  Conscience'  as  the  subject  of  conversation.  The 
handsome  Mrs.  N.  spoke  in  a  manner  which  astonished  me  and 
animated  all.  Ingeborg  Hedermann  expressed  liberal  and 
excellent  sentiments.  The  young  were  silent ;  but  I  saw 
beaming  glances  from  the  eyes  of  several.  Judge  Carlson 
was  present,  and  spoke  judiciously  and  nobly  on  the  subject  of 
liberty  of  conscience  with  reference  to  religion.     I  carefuUy 


324  THE  FOUR  SISTERS. 

kept  the  conversation  to  the  general  subject,  avoiding  all 
reference  to  the  circumstances  of  our  countiy.  Such  rtfei- 
ence  will  come  of  itself." 

Hertha's  diary  during  the  following  three  years  exhibits 
an  increasing  development,  both  of  her  o^vn  mind  and  her 
plans. 

In  the  spring  of  1 8 — ,  she  wrote : 

"  Yngve  !  if  I  could  now  conduct  thee  into  the  Iduna-hall — 
for  now  it  is  complete — show  thee  the  statue  of  our  noble, 
grave,  and  yet  mild  Scandinavian  goddess  of  youth,  surrounded 
by  laurels  and  blossoming  roses,  and  the  yet  more  elevated 
one  of  Him,  who  stands  with  extended  arms  inviting  the 
whole  human  race  to  his  redeeming  embrace ;  and,  ranged 
around,  busts  of  noble  and  wise  men,  who  glance  forth  from 
between  evergreen  trees — thou  wouldst  then  rejoice,  my 
Yngve,  because  this  is  thy  and  my  joint  work.  A  handsome 
collection  of  books,  thy  books  among  the  rest,  and  some 
good  pictures,  complete  the  ornament  of  the  haU.  It  is 
beautiful,  and  cheerful,  and  rich  in  instruction ;  a  fitting  home 
for  young,  pure,  and  upward-striving  souls.  Oh,  if  I  could 
only,  beyond  everything  else,  see  thee,  Yngve,  among  the 
flock  of  young  creatures  that  assemble  around  me  ;  hear  thee 
speak  to  them  and  teach  them,  as  thou  in  former  times 
taughtest  me  !     When  will  that  hour  come  ? 

"  Wilt  thou  know  me  agam,  my  Yngve  ?  I  am  much  aged, 
and  I  grow  rapidly  older  each  day  that  I  spend  in  the  week- 
day-school, and  by  every  sleepless  night  which  it  costs  me. 
Nevertheless  I  take  care  of  my  outward  being  as  I  never  did 
in  my  youth.  In  those  days  I  was  too  proud  to  wish  to  please 
by  my  physical  7",  and  too  unhappy  in  my  own  soul  to  trouble 
myself  about  my  body.  Now  I  take  care  of  it,  and  adorn  it 
that  I  may  please — my  pupils ;  that  I  may  produce  such  an 
impression  upon  them  as  is  no  way  at  variance  with  the  pur- 
pose of  my  hohday-school  in  the  Idvma-hall ;  I  desire,  even  I, 
to  produce  a  beautiful,  or  at  least  an  ennobhng  impression ; 
and  for  this  purpose  I  consult  my  own  taste  and  my  mirror,  as 
■weU  as  silently  an — absent  friend :  fashion,  on  the  contrary,  I 


THE    FOUR   SISTERS.  325 

regard  very  little,  being  only  careful  not  very  much  to  offend 
against  it.  Every  person  who  has  a  decided  individuality  of 
character,  which  is  stamped  upon  the  exterior,  ought  to  dress 
as  much  as  possible  in  conformity  with  it. 

"  My  young  friends  flatter  me  :  call  me  beautiful ;  and  if  I 
do  sometimes  appear  so,  it  is  because  the  brightness  of  their 
glances  and  of  their  youthful  souls  is  reflected  back  upon  me." 

It  was  inevitable,  but  that  Hertha's  conversations  and 
other  "  schemes  "  and  "  undertakings,"  as  Mrs.  TJggla  termed 
them,  would  call  forth  many  kinds  of  opinion,  and  sometimes 
not  very  favorable  ones,  in  Kungskoping  and  its  neighborhood. 
The  meetings  in  the  Iduna-hall  were  regarded  by  many  with 
suspicion  ;  there  was  no  vise  in  them,  people  said,  and  they 
were  afraid  of  the  new  and  unsettled  opinions  which  were 
there  propounded  ;  afraid  of  the  young  people  bemg  led  away 
by  great  thoughts  of  themselves,  pretensions,  and  so  on. 
But  the  enthusiastic  devotion  of  the  young  people  themselves 
towards  their  maternal  instructor  and  friend,  carried  her  tri- 
umphantly through  every  attempt  to  de^Dreciate  her  influence, 
and  every  doubt  of  her  sound  and  salutary  teachings.  And 
Avhen  fathers  and  mothers  saw  their  young  daughters  develope 
themselves,  not  merely  in  outward  grace  and  the  ability  to 
acquire  knowledge,  but  also  in  nobility  and  sweetness  of  cha- 
racter, under  Hertha's  guidence,  they  permitted  them  to  follow 
it  still  further.  Many  parents  also  candidly  acknowledged  her 
merits  with  regard  to  their  children.  As  for  as  the  children 
themselves  Avere  concerned,  they  looked  up  to  Hertha  as  to  a 
being  of  higher  order.  She  stood  amongst  them  like  the 
fruitful  mother-tree  of  the  Banana  above  a  group  of  young 
ofishoots  which  spring  up  at  its  feet.  Every  one  of  the  disci* 
pies  called  her  by  her  name,  and  addressed  her  as  thou ;  her 
relationship  to  each  individual  was  of  a  deep  personal  kind  ;  her 
keen  but  warmly  aflectionate  glance  rested  on  all  of  them 
with  a  fostering  power.  At  the  same  time  she  was  never  fon- 
dling and  weak,  her  maternal  tenderness  was  of  much  higher 
character. 


326  THE   FOUK   SISTERS. 

"  I  lia\'e  now  seen  '  the  Sibyl,' "  wi'ote  a  young  man,  when 
describing  her,  "  and  have  also  been  present  at  some  of  her 
'  Conversations.'  She  is  a  Christian  Vala ;  her  inspirations 
breathe  forth  a  sentiment  kindred  to  that  of  every  nobly  beat- 
ing heart.  I  confess  that  I  did  not,  in  the  first  instance, 
meet  her  without  a  prejudice,  and  that  I  went  rather  in  a  criti- 
cal spirit  than  willing  to  learn.  But  she  has  conquered  me  by 
the  effect  produced  by  her  soul's  attitude,  if  I  may  so  speak, 
with  regard  to  the  highest  truth.  Her  beammg  eyes,  her 
simple  but  imposing  demeanor,  her  voice,  her  gestures,  her 
silence,  her  words.  Thus,  her  whole  being  has  produced  upon 
me  an  uneffaceable  impression,  and  has  awoke  in  me  a  love  to 
the  true  and  the  noble,  which  will  henceforth  guide  me  through 
the  Avorld's  twihght,  or  ignes  fatui.  She  must  produce  an 
elevating  effect  upon  every  one  who  is  not  in  soul  a  dwarf  or 
a  mole.  She  is  not  handsome,  but  still  there  is  a  picturesque 
beaiity  in  her  noble  bearing,  her  simple  but  dignified  costiuue, 
and  I — should  have  fallen  in  love  with  her  if  I  had  dared." 


"  You  wish  to  know  something  about  her  appearance,  her 
dress,  her  manners,  &c.,"  wrote  one  of  Hertha's  elder  pupils 
to  one  of  her  friends.  "  She  dresses  generally  in  snow-white 
muslin,  made  up  to  the  throat,  and  which,  entirely  without 
starch,  falls  in  soft  rich  folds  around  her  beautiful  figure, — 
sometimes  also  she  wears  agate-colored  silk, — a  black  mantle, 
of  velvet  in  winter,  and  lace  in  summer,  is  worn  on  the 
shoulders;  with  a  small  white  lace  collar  round  the  neck. 
Her  rich,  gold-colored  hair,  which  grows  naturally  in  soft 
wavy  masses,  is  turned  back  from  the  temples,  showing  the 
beautiful  growth  and  the  etherially  branching  veins ;  so  that 
the  glorious  countenance,  with  those  wonderfully  beaming 
eyes,  is  presented  freely  and  clearly.  The  hair  simply  platted 
behind,  is  fastened  low  on  the  neck,  as  we  see  in  antique  busts. 
She  wears  neither  rings  nor  bracelets,  for  her  hands  and  arms 
need  them  not,  nor  any  ornament  whatever,  not  even  a  flower. 


THE    FOUR   SISTERS.  32T 

Frequently  however  will  she  gather  from  the  flowers  in  the 
hall  and  adorn  our  heads  with  them,  for  she  loves  to  see  us 
well  and  tastefully  dressed,  according  to  our  age;  but  she 
cannot  bear  to  see  us  wearing  fine  jewelry,  or  colors  which  do 
not  harmonize  with  each  other,  and  any  fault  in  taste  or 
arrangement  she  always  notices.  She  wishes  that  the  out- 
ward human  being  should  express  the  harmony  of  the  soul ; 
but  not  according  to  old  '  ma  bonne's'  notions  that  we  should 
be  all  'one  like  another,'  but  that  every  one  should  endeavor 
to  be  entirely  herself,  in  a  nobler  manner,  '  as  God  has  Avilled 
it.'  And  I  confess  that  I  take  more  pains  to  please  her  in  my 
exterior,  than  I  ever  did  to  please  any  man.  She  herself  at- 
tracts us  by  her  own  demeanor  towards  the  noble  and  the 
beautiful,  so  that  not  many  words  are  required  to  awaken  in 
us  a  yearning  after  the  same.  It  comes  with  her  to  us,  as  of 
itself,  in  the  Iduna-hall.  She  looks  so  stately,  and,  if  I  may 
so  say,  highborn,  that  one,  at  the  beginning,  feels  oneself  quite 
small  beside  her ;  one  shrLuks  as  it  were,  but  when  she  begins 
to  speak,  when  she  looks  on  us,  then  there  is  in  her  something 
so  tender  and  maternal,  that  one  is  raised  up  by  it,  and  one 
seems,  as  it  were,  to  begin  to  grow ; — and  that  one  does  really, 
at  least  ra  aspiration,  after  the  good  and  the  true,  and  in  desire 
to  attain  them.  There  are  times  when  I  feel  a  longing  to  lay 
my  head  on  her  knee,  and  let  her  see  my  whole  soul  so  that 
she  may  enlighten  it,  and  lift  it  upwards ! " 

"  Life  and  its  purposes  seem  so  great  in  the  Hght  where- 
■Rdth  she  enlightens  them,  and  yet  nevertheless  the  smallest 
thing,  of  natural  endowment,  disposition,  or  action,  acquires  a 
significance  and  value  in  this  light.  The  whole  of  fife  becomes 
clear  to  us  in  her  glance.  Many  persons  consider  her  to  be 
stern.  But  I  and  all  my  young  friends,  are  profoundly 
acquainted  with  her  goodness.  To  many  of  us  she  is  more 
than  a  mother,  taking  care  of  our  bodies,  as  of  our  souls,  our 
health,  our  future,  our  happiness.  Her  sisters  almost  worship 
her ! " 

It  was  thus  that  the  young  regarded  her.  We  have  already 
seen  the  state  of  Hertha's  OAvn  soid  whilst  she,  developing  hei"- 


328  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

self  so  beautifully,  labored  for  others.     Unhappy  she  "was  not, 
yet  neither  was  she  happy. 

The  week-day-school  was  a  continual  strain  upon  her  mind, 
and  was  by  no  means  a  satisfactory  labor.  The  parents  were 
often  stupid  and  unreasonable,  and  either  could  not  or  would 
not  understand  what  was  best  in  the  education  of  their  chil- 
dren. And  besides  this,  she  had  incessantly  to  combat  with 
the  small  worries  of  every-day  hfe.  Within  herself  too,  she 
f-truggled,  and  not  always  successfully,  against  the  bitterness 
which  her  father's  want  of  integrity  towards  her,  awoke  in  her 
soul,  together  with  his  increasing  parsimony  in  the  house.  But 
more  than  all,  she  suffered  from  the  unspeakable  tenderness 
and  anxiety  which  she  felt  for  Yngve,  as  his  letters  betrayed 
more  and  more  the  cruel  want  which  he  felt  of  her  and  of  a 
home,  and  as  it  became  more  and  more  evident  to  her  that  his 
health  was  suffering  in  consequence. 

He  wrote  less  frequently,  and  a  certain  painful  depression 
was  often  perceptible  in  his  letters,  however  rich  they  might 
otherwise  be  in  the  life  of  affection  and  thought. 

It  was  an  understood  thing  between  the  two  friends,  that  if 
any  change  took  place  in  the  mind  of  the  Chief  Director  with 
respect  to  themselves,  Hertha  should  lose  no  time  in  making  it 
known  to  Yngve,  and  that  he  should  then  immediately  return. 
But  year  after  year  had  gone  on  and  no  change  had  occurred 
which  would  justify  Hertha  in  recalling  Yngve.  Seven  years 
had  thus  passed  since  the  day  when  they  plighted  to  each  other 
their  faith  in  life  and  in  death,  and  had  been  obliged  to  part, 
and  Hertha  was  now  no  longer  young. 

At  this  tune  came  another  of  these  letters  from  Yngve,  which, 
without  uttering  a  complaint,  nevertheless  caused  Hertha  to 
press  her  hand  upon  her  heart,  as  if  she  felt  there  an  agonising- 
pain,  whilst  the  tears  slowly  filled  those  sorrowful  eyes,  which 
seemed  to  gaze  into  distance.  After  this  letter  she  sate  down 
and  wrote : 

"Yngve,  come  home!  Come  home,  beloved  friend!  I 
cannot  bear  any  longer  to  be  separated  from  you,  to  see  you 
suffer  and  to  experience  in  myself,  because  you  suffer,  feelings 


THE    FOUR   SISTERS.  329 

■which  are  like  pangs  of  conscience.  For  I  see,  Yngvc,  though 
you  do  not  say  so,  that  you  are  ill,  both  soul  and  body.  Oh ! 
come  back,  and  let  me  once  more  be  your  physician ;  it  Avill 
make  me  also  young  again,  and  God  will  once  more  bless  what 
you  once  called  my  '  power  of  lieaUng.' 

"  I  have  nothing  new  to  tell  you,  as  regards  my  home ; 
everything  remains  unaltered  as  far  as  my  father  is  concerned  ; 
or  if  either  looks  darker,  more  impossible,  because  his  temper 
is  evidently  more  morose  of  late, — but  still,  still  I  say,  '  Yugve, 
come  home  !'  A  presentiment,  an  inexplicable  presentiment, 
a  trembling  but  delicioua  presentiment  tells  me  that  we  soon, 
soon  shall  be  united  to  part  no  more.    This  life  is  short,  and 

come  back,  beloved  Yngve !     Your  mother  prays  for  this 

with  your 

"  Hektha.," 

To  this  sumimons  Yngve  replied  by  fixing  the  time  for  his 
return;  the  exact  day  he  could  only  state  on  his  return  to 
Sweden.     In  about  six  weeks  he  would  be  there. 

From  the  moment  that  Hertha  with  certainty  could  look 
forward  to  Yngve's  return,  a  quiet  peace  and  joy  settled  down 
in  her  soul.  Durmg  the  spring-life  which  the  thought  of  this 
gave  birth  to  in  her  whole  being,  a  new  youth,  as  it  were, 
blossomed  within  her.  The  beautiful  form,  which  had  seemed 
somewhat  to  stoop  and  become  attenuated,  resumed  its  rounded 
contour  ;  everything  about  her  seemed  to  become  brighter, — 
even  the  temper  of  her  father,  who,  now  that  his  daughter  no 
.onger  needed  n.oney  from  him,  but  almost  entirely  furnished 
the  house-keeping  funds  from  her  own  means,  ceased  to  inter- 
fere with  her  private  affairs. 

Yngve's  gentle  mother,  whose  increasing  weakness  evi- 
dently showed  that  she  was  not  long  for  this  world,  revived 
anew  in  the  prospect  of  her  beloved  son's  return,  and  she  had 
now  no  other  wish  than  to  live  to  see  him  united  to  Ilertha, 
the  daughter  of  her  heart. 

Whilst  Hertha's  home  exhibits  this  cheerful  aspect,  and  she 
herself  awaits  Yngve's  return  vnih  a  throbbing  heai-t,  and 


330  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

assisted  by  her  young  sisters  arranges  everything  m  the  house 
as  beautifully  and  charmingly  as  possible  for  his  welcome,  we 
will  give  ourselves  a  moment's  repose,  and  inquire  after  old 
friends  and  acquaintances  at  Kungskoping,  and  see  what 
changes  seven  years  have  made  amongst  them. 

The  last  time,  that  we  and  our  readers  made  a  round  of 
calls  in  Kungskoping,  they  may  remember  that  we  found 
Ingeborg  Uggla  and  Doctor  Hedermann  together,  and  he 
(the  wicked  Dr.)  caused  her  a  sleepless  night  pondering  about 
"  the  question  "  which  he  had  to  ask  her. 

As  we  have  an  especial  httle  fiiendship  for  Ingeborg  we 
will  betake  ovirselves  fii-st  to  her  in  our  round  of  inquuies  at 
Kungskoping. 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  831 


TALK  UNDER  AN  UMBRELLA. 
QUESTIONS  ABOUT  A DROMEDAEY. 

After  the  evening's  conversations  whicli  we  have  already 
related  in  our  "  short  visits,"  Dr.  Hedermann  remained  absent 
from  Ingeborg's  home  for  several  days.  She  began  to  fancy 
that  he  had  forgotten  her,  and  the  question  which  he  wished 
to  ask,  and  this  grieved  her  more  than  she  was  willing  to  con- 
fess even  to  herself.  She  was  therefore  glad  to  dissipate  her 
uneasy  feelings  by  active  employment.  And  this  she  found 
daily  in  the  so-called  "  Children's  Dormitory,"  which  had  been 
instituted  by  the  doctor  immediately  after  the  fire,  and  placed 
under  Ingeborg's  charge.  Thither  went  Ingeborg  daily, 
whilst  her  mother  sighed  over  all  those  new-fashioned  under- 
takings which  converted  young  ladies  into  servant  maids, 
"  and  prevented  all  good  matches  "  in  the  world. 

One  day  Ingeborg  went  to  her  "Children's  Dormitory" 
without  observing  that  the  sky  looked  threatening  and  cloudy, 
and  therefore  without  an  umbrella.  When  she  reached  the 
children's  home,  it  began  both  to  rain  and  snoY\\  She  ordered 
a  fire  to  be  lighted,  and  let  the  small  creatures  gather  round 
it.  She  took  up  a  little  weeping  child,  which  probably  missed 
its  own  mother's  loAdng  care,  and  walked  up  and  down  the 
room  with  it,  softly  rocking  it  in  her  arms ;  and  on  her  warm 
bosom  it  soon  was  hushed. 

The  fire  burned  and  crackled  cheerfully ;  the  httle  children 
chattered  and  played  merrily  on  the  floor  hi  its  blaze,  and  the 
little  fellow  slept  sweetly,  resting  his  head  on  Ingeborg's 
breast.  The  cheerful  comfort  of  the  time  stole  into  her  heart. 
She  felt  with  joy  ^\'hat  it  was  which  would  help  her  to  over- 


332  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

come  all  its  disquietude ;  silently  thanked  God,  and  clasped 
with  still  deeper  feeling  the  Uttle  slumberer  more  closely  in 
her  arms. 

"  Childless,  and  yet  a  mother,"  whispered  she  to  herself; 
and  whilst  tears,  not  of  pain,  fell  upon  the  sleeping  little  one, 
she  softly  sang — words  which  the  moment  and  her  own  feelings 
imDrovised — 

Though  I  without  husband  or  children  may  live, 

A  mother  I  still  may  be, 
For  the  friend  of  all  children,  the  Saviour,  may  give 

His  friendless,  poor  children  to  me ! 

Thus  sang  Ingeborg  softly  to  herself,  castmg  every  now  and 
then  an  inquiring  glance  at  the  window,  against  Avhich  pattered 
the  down-pouring  rain,  and  remembering  that  she  had  not 
brought  an  umbrella  with  her,  and  that  her  mother  would 
soon  be  expecting  her  home  to  dinner.  But  her  uneasiness 
was  soon  relieved,  for,  as  good  luck  had  it,  she  saw  Dr.  He- 
dermann  coming  up  the  street  with  a  large  umbrella,  and 
presently  both  he  and  the  umbrella  were  in  the  room.  The 
childi'en  set  up  a  shout  of  joy,  sprang  forward  to  meet  him, 
and  climg  round  his  knees.  He  gave  a  friendly  recognition  to 
Ingeborg,  set  his  umbrella  down  in  a  corner,  and  seated  him- 
self before  the  fire,  whilst,  with  evident  enjoyment,  he  per- 
mitted the  children  to  climb  his  knees,  his  arms,  his  shoulders, 
and  there  perform  every  kind  of  evolution.  Of  Ingeborg  he 
took  no  further  notice,  nor  said  a  word  to  her. 

But  when,  after  having  laid  the  little  one  from  her  arms 
upon  the  bed,  and  had  some  conversation  with  the  woman  who 
had  the  charge  of  the  establishment,  she  was  ready  to  go 
home,  the  doctor  hastily  shook  himself  free  of  his  young 
swarm,  with  a  good-natured  slap  right  and  left,  and  rising  i;p, 
let  them  all  tumble  helter-skelter  around  him.  He  then  took 
up  his  great  umbrella,  and,  Avithout  a  word,  followed  Ingeborg 
out. 

Away  went  both  through  the  pelting  rain,  and  the  doctor 
held  his  umbrella  over  Ingeborg. 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  333 

"  I  am  afraid  that  you  -will  be  wet  on  my  accomit,  Dr.  He- 
dermann,"  said  Ingeborg,  casting  an  uneasy  glance  at  the 
doctor's  wet  left  shoulder. 

The  doctor  made  no  answer,  nor  yet  altered  the  position  of 
the  umbrella,  and  Ingeborg,  with  a  beating  heart,  had  a  pre- 
sentiment that  the  important  question  was  coming.  At  length 
he  spoke  and  said : 

"  I  have  a  question  to  put  to  you.  Miss  Ingeborg,  but — will 
you  give  me  a  true,  honest  answer  ?" 

"  Yes,  certainly,  as  far  as  I  can,"  replied  Ingeborg,  with  an 
anxiety  which  was  evident  in  her  voice. 

"  Very  well,"  continued  he  gravely.  "  Tell  me,  then,  is  it 
true  that  you — laughed  at  me  and  turned  me  into  ridicule  with 
your  young  fiiends  ?" 

After  a  pause,  Ingeborg  replied :  "  Yes — it  is  true — ^biit — it 
was  many  years  ago." 

"  Is  it  true,"  continued  the  doctor  as  before,  "  that  you 
called  me  a  dromedary  or  a  camel  ?  I  don't  remember  which 
of  the  two  animals?" 

"  Yes,  it  is  true,"  again  said  Ingeborg,  with  burning  cheeks 
and  eyes  full  of  tears ;  "  but,  Dr.  Hedermann,  it  was  not  out  of 
maUce,  but  fi'om  thoughtless,  gu"lish  gaiety,  called  forth  by  a 
something  pecuhar  in  your  carriage  and  manner  when  you  first 
came  to  the  town.  If  you  only  knew  how  often,  since  then,  I 
have  been  ashamed  of  that  stupid  talk,  such  as  young  girls  often 
indulge  in,  merely  for  the  sake  of  a  little  laughter,  or  to  say 
something  which  they  think  is  amusing,  how  I  have  repented 
of  it,  you  would  forgive  me,  and  not  think  ill  of  me,  nor  con- 
sider me  ungrateful,  because  I  then — did  not  know  you — did 
not ^" 

Ingeborg  could  not  finish  what  she  would  say,  because  of 
her  tears. 

"  I  don't  think  very  badly  of  you,"  said  the  doctor,  in  a 
low  voice ;  "  I  think  it  was  very  natural  that  a  young,  pretty, 
and  indulged  girl  should  consider  a  great  shaggy  figure  like 
me  laughable,  and " 

"  But "  interrupted  Ingeborg   earnestly,   "  I  was  then  a 


334  THE  FOUR   SISTERS. 

thoughtless,  worldly  child,  and  could  not  judge  of  people, 

could  not  understand "     Again  poor  Ingeborg  was  unable 

to  proceed. 

"  I  believe  you,"  said  the  doctor,  "  and  now — now  we  are 
changed,  judge  differently — eh  ?" 

"  Yes,  very  differently !"  was  all  Ingeborg  could  reply. 

"  I  believe  you,"  said  he  again,  "  and  I  thank  you,  Miss 
Ingeborg,  for  having  so  candidly  answered  my  questions. 
And  now  we  are  at  your  home,  and  you  must  go  and  dress 
for  the  great  ball  at  X,  this  evening." 

"  No,  we  are  not  going  there ;  my  mother  has  consented  to 
let  us  stay  at  home." 

"  Then  you  will  be  at  home  this  evening  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Will  you  see  anybody  ?" 

"  If  any  friend  comes  he  will  be  welcome." 

"  Do  you  regard  me  as  a  ftiend  ?" 

"  Yes,  one  of  the  best ;  especially  since  you  have  asked  me 
this  question." 

"  Indeed !  Well,  but — if  I  had  yet  another  question  to 
ask  you  ?     But  I  will  reserve  that  tUl  evening." 

"  And  you  are  no  longer  angry  with  me ;  you  don't  believe 
me  any  longer  to  be  one  of  those  '  fine  false  souls,'  unworthy, 
ungrateful " 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  I  think  of  you — in  the  evening,"  said 
he,  and  left  Ingeborg  vnih  a  look  which  betrayed  neither 
anger  nor  yet  an  unforgiving  spirit. 


THE  FOUR  SISTERS.  335 


ANOTHER  QUESTION. 

In  the  evening,  the  very  same  evening  on  which  the  great 
ball  was  given,  to  which  Ingeborg  and  her  mother  were  invit- 
ed, Mrs.  Uggla  sat  in  her  small,  handsomely  furnished  draw- 
ing-room, shakuig  herself  in  her  arm-chair,  with  her  snuff-box 
in  her  hand,  and  a  most  mournful  expression  of  countenance, 
contemplating  her  daughter,  who  sat  at  a  httle  work-table, 
busy  hemming  coarse  towels.  The  coai'se  work  contrasted 
with  the  deHcate  white  hand  which  flew  over  it  in  the  rapid 
movement  of  the  needle,  mth  the  elegant  needlewoman 
herself,  and  the  room  in  which  she  sate,  which  was  splendidly 
furnished  with  the  addition  of  many  small  needless  articles  of 
luxury,  and  of  which  the  temperature  was  almost  too  warm 
whilst  it  agreeably  breathed  forth  the  fragrance  of  "  Eau  da 
Portugal,"  which  Mrs.  Uggla  kept  near  her  in  a  scent- 
bottle. 

Mrs.  Uggla  sate  and  looked  at  her  daughter,  sighed  and 
took  snuff,  and  thought  of  the  extraordinary  times  in  which 
we  live,  which  make  young  ladies  of  good  family,  like  maid- 
servants, and  let  them  hem  coarse  towels  instead  of  doing 
elegant  embroidery  and  beautiful  work,  and  which  now  caus- 
ed Ingeborg  to  sit  there  with  red  eyes,  making  no  figure  at 
all,  instead  of,  like  the  other  young  ladies  of  the  town,  look- 
ing brilliant  in  their  ball-dresses,  ready  for  the  great  ball  at 
X.  Mrs.  Uggla  sighed  deeply,  looked  at  Ingeborg,  and 
thought ;  "  she'll  never  make  a  good  match  !  It  is  all  over 
for  that,  now !' 

At  that  very  moment  a  ring  was  heard  at  the  door. 

"Who  can  that  be?"  said  Mrs. Uggla,  annoyed,  "it  must 
be  some  beggar  or  other  " 


33G  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

But  it  was  Dr.  Hedermann,  one  of  the  persons  whom  Mrs. 
Uggla  liked  best  to  see  in  the  world,  but  who  was  never 
accustomed  to  visit  her  at  this  time  of  day.  When  she 
had  expressed  her  astonishment  and  delight  at  this  visit, 
the  doctor  said : — 

"  I  found  it  was  so  excessively  stupid  to  sit  at  home  by 
myself,  that  I  thought  I  would  come  here  and  see  whether 
I  could  have  any  supper  with  you.  But  if  you  will  ha\'e 
me  you  must  let  me  have  pancakes  for  supper." 

There  are  people  who  are  always  welcome  ;  and  if  Mrs. 
Uggla  had  received  a  grand  present,  she  could  hardly  have 
been  better  pleased  than  by  this  request  of  the  doctor,  be- 
cause Mrs.  Uggla  had  at  the  bottom  a  true  Swedish  house- 
wife's heart,  and  to  this  nothing  is  more  welcome,  nothing 
gives  greater  delight,  than  to  entertain  a  friend.  She  there- 
fore rose  up  with  unusual  alacrity  to  give  orders  for  supper, 
and  to  have  pancakes  baked. 

Dr.  Hedermann  seated  himself  opposite  Ingeborg,  and  ask- 
ed her  to  lay  aside  her  work,  saying  in  a  voice  which  betrayed 
deep  emotion : 

"  You  answered  my  question  so  honestly  this  morning.  Miss 
Ingeborg,  that  it  gives  me  courage  to  come  forward  with  ano- 
ther, which  may  seem  foolhardy  enough, — but  still,  in  any 
case,  I  am  certain  that  you  will  give  me  an  honest  and  true 
answer." 

Ingeborg  felt  unable  either  to  answer  or  to  look  up.  But 
when  the  doctor  seemed  to  be  waiting  for  her  reply,  she 
said : — 

"  WeU  ?     The  question  ?" 

"  Can  you  like  me  ?" 

Ingeborg  let  fall  her  work  and  looked  at  him  with  her  clear, 
honest  eyes,  and  as  she  replied : 

"  Yes,  that  I  can." 

"  Fancy  me,  as your  husband  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Ingeborg,  as  before. 

"  Is  it  possible is  it  actually  possible  ?"  said  the  doctor, 

astonished  and  affected ;  "  but  I  must  believe  it  when  you 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  337 

nay  the  deuce . — I  shall  say  thou^  ever  after  this — when  thou 
tellest  me  so,  and  lookest  at  me  with  those  eyes,  and  my  bless- 
ed, sweet  Ingeborg,  I  would  tell  thee  how  happj'^  it  makes  me, 
but — hang  me ! — I  can't  do  it !"  And  the  doctor  took  In- 
geborg's  hand  and  jjressed  it  to  his  lips,  to  his  tearful 
eyes,  and  held  it  between  his  two  great  hands,  as  he  con- 
tinued ; 

"  Look  you,  child,  it  is  a  wonderful  thing,  a  very  wonderful 
thing  that  such  a  great,  rough  sort  of  fellow  as  I  am,  should 
yet  always  have  taken  a  fancy  to  fine  ladies,  should  have 
liked  then-  society,  and  have  had  pleasure  in  the  elegances 
with  which  they  surround  themselves,  and  yet  which  I  my- 
self would  not  give  a  pinch  of  snuff  for,  when  I  look  at  the 
thmg  for  itself.  But  now  that  has  been  my  weakness,  and 
whenever  I  have  thought  of  a  wife,  I  have  looked  about 
for  a  woman  as  deUcate  as  a  real  pearl,  set  in  gold,  but  yet 
at  the  same  time  a  true  human  being  in  heart  and  deed,  who 
could  put  up  "wdth  the  rough  as  well  as  preserve  the  smooth 
in  Hfe.  I  became  several  years  ago  in  love  Avitli  such  a  pearl 
set  in  gold,  I  loved  her  almost  to  adoration.  She  allowed 
herself  to  be  worshijjjjed  by  me,  then  made  a  fool  of  me 
behind  my  back,  with  another  lover  as  fine  and  false  as  she 
was.  When  I  first  discovered  this,  I  became  ill,  then  an- 
gry, afterwards  bitter,  and  afraid  of  elegant,  fine  ladies ;  I 
suspected  them  altogether  of  being  false,  and  became  an  ene- 
my to  them — excepting  when  I  became  their  physician.  And 
when  I  fell  m  love  with  you.  Miss  Ingeborg,  pretty  nearly 
fifteen  years  ago,  I  revenged  myself  on  your  and  on  my 
own  weakness  by  finding  fiiult  with  you,  until  the  time  when 
you  had  that  affection  of  the  eyes ;  then  I  saw  a  somethmg 
in  the  depth  of  those  eyes,  a  something  which  affected  me, 
and  made  me  tender-hearted.  I  fancied  that  I  saw  there 
an  angel  with  imprisoned  wings,  glancing  forth  with  hea- 
venly serenity  from  the  mists  which  sought  to  dim  its  coun- 
tenance, I  did  not  beheve  what  I  had  seen,  did  not  believe 
my  own  feelings,  iintil  the  reality  of  your  life  convinced  me 
that  you  were   the  woman  whom  I  sought,   fine  as  a  true 


33S  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

pearl  set  in  gold,  and  at  the  same  time  a  real  human  being 
in  heart  and  in  deed,  an  angel  in  goodness,  a  noble,  truth- 
ful woman  ;  and  the  only  thing  that  I  now  wonder  at  is, 
that  I  actually  have  found  such  a  one,  and  that  such  a  wo- 
man can  actually  take  a  fancy  to  and  like  me  !" 

"  Oh  Dr.  Hedermann  !" 

"  Call  me  David,  and  say  thou  to  me,  or  I  will  run  away  !" 

"  If  thou  didst  but  know,"  resumed  Ingeborg,  with  quiet 
tears,  "  how  much  more  wonderful  it  seems  to  me  that  thou 
canst  Uke  me,  who  was  so  deceitful,  so  full  of  faults,  and 
besides  no  longer  young." 

"  Young  enough  for  me,"  said  the  doctor.  "  Thou  art  ten 
years  younger  than  I  am,  and  a  thousand  times  more  lovely 
in  my  eyes  now  than  before.  And  it  is  to  me  most  difficult  to 
comprehend  how  thou  really  canst  like  me  !" 

"But  do  you  then  believe  me  still  to  be  a  thoughtless, 
giddy  girl  ?"  said  Ingeborg,  cheerfully ;  "  let  me  then  tell  you 
how  you — I  beg  pardon,  thou  didst  convert  me.  When  I  had 
that  sad  affection  of  the  eyes,  which  threatened  to  produce 
blindness,  and  thou  wast  my  physician,  I  was  so  deeply 
affected  by  thy  kindness,  thy  care  for  me  ;  and  Avhen  I  owed 
the  restoration  of  my  sight  to  thee,  I  saw  in  thy  eyes  that 
which  I  never  forgot.  Thy  conversation,  thy  example,  thy 
whole  life  became  beacons  to  me  and  helped  me  by  degrees 
to  free  myself  from  the  fetters  wherewith  custom,  and  my 
good  mother's  mistaken  tendernes,s,  had  bound  me  to  the  mere 
emptiness  of  life.  I  never  loved  it ;  I  hungered  and  thirsted 
after  something  better,  but  knew  not  what,  until  thou 
showedst  me  the  way.  Since  then  I  have  silently  followed 
thee  as  far  as  I  was  able,  but  without  any  hope  of  being  able 
to  overtake  thee,  often  made  unhappy  by  thy  bitterness  and 
mistrust  of  me,  but  yet  more  happy  in  the  new  duties  which 
thou  hast  pointed  out  to  me  in  a  life  for  others,  than  I  had 
ever  before  been  for  a  moment,  Avhilst  I  lived  merely  for  my- 
self" 

"  And  thou  art  not  afraid  of  a  life  of  labor  with  me,  Inge- 
borg ?     For  Will  not  conceal  from  thee,  that  I  regard  myself 


TITE  €'OUR    SISTERS.  339 

as  one  of  our  Lord's  humble  stewards  on  earth,  and  all  that  I 
have  obtained  from  him  of  spiritual  or  physical  good,  I  must 
employ  in  his  service ;  I  do  not  like  spending  money  in  din- 
ners and  expensive  wines,  and  such  unnecessaries,  but  desire 
to  live  a  simple,  frugal  Hfe,  as  one  of  our  father's  laborers  on 
earth.  Art  thou  not  afraid  of  this,  Ingeborg  ?  Thou  art  not 
accustomed  to  it." 

"  I  shall  soon  become  so,  if  thou  consider  me  worthy  to 
share  it  with  thee." 

"  And  thou  canst  fully  trust  thyself  to  me  ? — ^I  am  snappish 
and  odd  sometimes — very  queer-tempered, — say  cutting  things 
— Tsdlt  thou  not  be  afraid  of  me  ?" 

"  If  I  am  so,  I  shall  tell  thee." 

"  But  if  I  get  angry,  unreasonable  ?" 

"  Then  I  shall  try  to  break  thee  of  it. 

"  Well  said,  Ingeborg !  Thanks  for  the  promise.  Thy 
courteousness  and  gentleness  will  be  my  correctors.  I  will 
put  myself  under  their  teaching. 

"  Now  look,"  continued  the  doctor,  suddenly  assuming  a 
humorous  gaiety,  "  when  a  dromedary  or  camel  will  take  his 
driver  upon  his  back,  he  falls  down  on  his  knees  before  hun, 
as  I  do,  and  the  other  places  himself  on  his  shoulder,  thus, 
and  takes  the  bridle  in  his  hand,  and  then  the  obedient  drome- 
dary rises,  and  is  guided  by  that  hand,  even  though  it  be  the 
weak  hand  of  a  woman,  and  he  carries  her  to  the  Herberg, 
through  the  desert  of  the  world,  thus." 

And  so  saying.  Dr.  Hedermann  lifted  Ingeborg  upon  his 
shoulder,  and  marched  with  her  along  the  room. 

No  wonder  that  Mrs.  Uggla,  who  at  that  moment  entered 
and  beheld  this  extraordinary  "  undertaking,"  believed  that 
the  doctor  was  gone  mad,  and  was  very  near  fallmg  into  a  fit 
from  sheer  terror.  But  when  she  saw  Ingeborg's  calm  and 
smiling  countenance,  she  stood  stock-still  Avith  the  door  in  her 
hand,  whilst  the  doctor  exclaimed  gaily  to  her  : 

"  We  are  only  rehearsing  a  scheme  which  we  have  agreed 
upon  carrying  out  through  the  whole  of  our  lives.  I  am  a 
sort  of  dromedary  which  has  undertaken  to  carry  Ingeborg 


340  THE   FOUR  SISTERS. 

tlirougli  the  desert  journey,  and  Ingeborg  will  be  my  gracious 
leader  and  governor,  yet  with  the  proviso  that  Ingeborg's 
mother  gi^^es  us  her  blessing  on  our  way." 

"  Let  me  descend,  my  dromedary,"  said  Ingeborg,  "  my 
mother  does  not  understand  the  joke." 

"  Then  we  mil  explaia  it  to  her  in  earnest  !"  said  the 
doctor  as  he  obeyed  Ingeborg,  and  tm'ning  to  her  mother, 
explained  what  had  taken  place,  besought  Ingeborg's  hand 
and  her  mother's  blessing  with  such  cordial  feehng,  that  Mrs. 
Uggla,  both  affected  and  astonished,  had  neither  words  nor 
opportunity  to  express  the  many  doubts  which  she  felt  with 
regard  to  the  match,  nor  yet  her  amazement  at  the  way  in 
which  it  had  been  brought  about.  Mrs.  Uggla  really  had 
never  thought  of  Dr.  Hedermann  as  her  son-in-law,  and  she 
considered  him,  in  fact,  not  altogether  comme  ilfaut,  as  her 
daughter's  husband.  But  she  had  too  much  respect  for  him 
and  his  medical  skill  to  let  this  be  observed. 

"But  he  is  not  a  nobleman!"  said  she,  sighing,  to  Ingeborg, 
when  they  were  alone. 

"  But  he  is  an  honorable  man  and  the  best  of  men  !"  said 
Ingeborg,  "  and  mamma's  daughter  will  be  happy  with  him." 

"And  he  is  a  wealthy  man — Hves  in  his  own  house — the 
towns-people  will  say  that  Ingeborg  has  made  a  good  match," 
sighed  Mrs.  Uggla,  w  petto,  with  a  sense  of  consolation. 

She  was  one  of  the  old  school,  the  good  lady,  and  firaily 
adhered  to  the  old  style. 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  341 


A  WEDDING  AT  KUNGSKOPING. 

WHAT  THE  TOWITS-PEOPLE   SAID. 

Dr.  HJEDERMAira'  SO  hurried  on  the  publication  of  the  banns 
and  the  marriage,  that  in  one  month  after  the  evening  we  have 
just  described  he  led  his  own  Ingeborg  into  his  own  house 
as  his  wife,  and  he  made  Ingeborg's  mother  such  handsome 
presents  on  this  occasion,  that  she  almost  forgot  to  sigh  because 
he  was  not  a  nobleman.  But  then,  on  the  other  hand,  he 
.played  her,  on  that  veiy  wedding-day,  such  a  trick  as  she 
never  forgot  and  hardly  ever  forgave  him.  For,  instead  of 
following  the  old  Swedish  custom,  not  the  most  agreeable, 
according  to  our  fancy,  but  which,  in  Mrs.  Uggla's  family,  had 
always  been  the  ceremonial  usage  at  weddings,  just  at  the 
very  time  when  the  bride  ought  to  have  vanished  in  a 
mysterious  manner  from  the  little  company,  and  when  Mrs. 
Uggla  was  giving  significant  hints  to  Ingeborg  on  the  subject, 
what  should  the  doctor  do,  but  take  it  into  his  head  to  play 
the  part  of  dromedary,  snatch  up  his  bride,  place  her  on  hia 
shoulder,  and  carry  her  off  before  the  eyes  of  all ! 

Ingeborg's  cheerful  and  consoling  words  to  her  mother, 
"  We  shall  soon  come  and  see  you  again,  mamma !"  had  very 
little  consolation  in  them,  as  she  beheld  Ingeborg  placed  in  a 
covered  carriage,  wrapped  up  in  a  cloak  of  the  doctor's,  who 
then  stepped  into  the  cai-riage,  and  away  it  drove  rapidly 
with  them — nobody  knew  where  ! 

Mrs.  Uggla  would  have  distressed  herself  hoiTibly  at  this 
sort  of  abduction,  had  not  Mimmi  Svanberg,  who  was  present 
at  the  wedding,  and  had  been  admitted  into  the  plot,  com- 
forted her  somewhat  by  the   assurance  that   this  mode  of 


342  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

procedure  was  modern  and  universally  practised  in  England 
and  America,  and  would  soon  be  the  fashion  in  this  country 
also.  Mimmi  Svanberg  laughed  so  heartUy  at  the  whole 
thing,  and  talked  so  about  the  story  of  Pluto  and  Proserjjiue, 
that  Mrs.  Uggla  really  began  to  think  that  the  affair  was  not 
so  terrible  after  all,  and  was  ready  to  smile  at  Minimi's  joke, 
and  promised  not  to  trouble  herself  at  all  as  to  what  the 
Kungskoping  people  might  say  about  the  matter. 

The  Kungskoping  peojDle  were  not  very  well  pleased  with 
the  wedding,  which  was  carried  on  so  quietly  and  silently 
that  they  had  hardly  time  to  know  anything  about  it  before  it 
was  all  over,  and  the  doctor  had  gone  off  with  his  wife.  And 
when  the  new-married  couple  after  a  few  weeks'  absence 
returned  to  the  town,  and  instead  of  paying  visits  or  sending 
out  great  invitations,  as  the  Kungskoping  people  had  cal- 
culated upon,  continued  to  live  wholly  in  stillness  and  quiet, 
ness,  occupying  themselves  with  the  poor  and  the  sick  of  the 
town,  rather  than  with  its  well-to-do  inhabitants,  the  people  of 
Kungskopmg  began  to  grumble,  and  say  all  kinds  of  things 
about  "  meanness,"  and  want  of  "  knowledge  of  life,"  and 
that  the  "  doctor  was  a  tyrant  to  his  wife,  and  that  she  would 
be  very  glad  to  see  people  if  she  dared ;"  and  in  shoi-t,  it  19 
impossible  to  say  what  other  extraordinary  reports  might  not 
have  been  circulated  by  the  townsfolks,  with  their  corsair 
Mrs.  Tupplander  at  their  head,  about  the  new-married  couple, 
"  who  did  not  behave  hke  other  people ;"  if  they  had  not  been 
driven  out  of  their  heads  by  another  wedding,  which  was 
more  in  accordance  with  the  honor  of  Kungskoping  and  the 
respectabihty  of  its  inhabitants.  This  was  the  wedding  of 
Adelgunda  Jonson  and  Lieutenant  Krongranat. 

Mrs.  Jonson,  who  was  now  fully  entitled  to  call  her  daugh- 
ter "  her  ladyship,"  spared  nothing  to  make  the  wedding 
worthy  of  her  daughter's  new  rank  and  her  own  family's 
respectabihty. 

Long  before,  and  long  after  the  wedding,  the  people  of 
Kungskoping  talked  with  admii-ation  of  the  wealth  and  the 
sohd  luxury  which  was  expended  on  this  occasion.     Never 


THE    FOUR   SISTERS.  343 

before  in  Kungskoping  had  so  many  tables  been  seen  so  richly 
covered  with  silver,  and  with  so  many  dishes,  so  much  "  fatted 
calf"  and  roast  goose.  And  seldom  among  wedding-guests 
had  been  seen  before  so  great  a  number  of  jolly,  fat,  and,  to  all 
appearance,  substantial  and  well-to-do  people.  The  queen  of 
the  feast,  Mrs.  Jonson,  shone  like  a  sun  of  warmth  and  glad- 
ness ;  Adelgunda  in  her  splendid  silk  dress,  covered  with  luce, 
was  as  fair,  and  round,  and  plump,  as  her  tender  mother  could 
desire,  and  was  greatly  admired  by  all  the  crowds,  who 
flocked  thither  from  far  and  near,  to  "  see  the  bride." 

The  wedding-feast  lasted  for  five  hours,  healths  were  drunk, 
and  verses,  composed  by  a  Kungskoping  poet,  recited ;  very 
beautiful  poems  they  were  said  to  be,  but  the  following  three 
lines  only  have  reached  us — 

She  is  a  tiu-tle  fair  and  true, 
He  is  80  brave,  so  faithful  too, 
And  both  to  love  pay  homage  due. 

And  long  after  the  wedding  the  standing  topic  of  conversa- 
tion at  every  coffee  party  in  the  town,  was  her  new  "  lady- 
ship," and  all  her  new  clothes,  trinkets,  furniture,  &c. ;  and 
even  the  wedding-dishes  and  arrangements  were  all  cooked 
over  again  by  the  tongues  of  the  to^vn,  and  served  up  again 
with  variations  and  remarks.  Seldom  did  any  wedding  make 
a  greater  stir.  Mrs.  Tupplander  only  shook  her  head  about  it, 
and  said  there  was  far  too  much  of  it — ^far  too  much ;  and  that 
it  was  not  becoming  to  make  such  an  ado  about  a  wedding, 
when  the  bride,  "  her  new  ladyship,"  was  in  fact  only  a  cheese- 
monger's daughter. 

But  after  this  speech  became  known  in  the  Jonson  family, 
Mrs.  Tupplander  never  again,  as  she  had  always  done,  received 
the  present  of  a  fat  goose  at  Michaelmas  fi-om  Mrs.  Jonson. 

The  people  of  Kungskoping  had  soon  many  brides  and 
weddings  to  talk  about,  and  one  and  another  in  the  town 
began  to  suspect  that  the  great  fire,  which  burned  down  so 
many  houses,  had  also  kindled  the  hearts  of  the  young  people ; 


344     '  THE  FOUR  SISTERS. 

because  never,  in  the  memory  of  man,  had  there  been  so  many 
marriages  wittiin  one  twelve  months  in  Kungskuping,  as  in  that 
which  succeeded  the  great  fire.  Many  also,  besides  Mrs.  Tupp- 
lander,  attributed  to  the  family-unions,  and  the  acquaintance 
which  young  people  made  one  with  another  at  its  family  com- 
mittees, and  the  mutual  working  together  which  was  the 
result,  a  considerable  share  in  the  kindling  up  of  these  real 
unions.  And  perhaps  they  were  not  altogether  wrong  in  their 
reasoning. 

In  social  life,  as  it  generally  exists,  young  people  meet  those 
of  the  other  sex  only  m  social  circles,  or  at  balls,  where  they 
are  only  able  to  see  and  become  acquainted  with  each  other  in 
the  most  external  manner,  and  with  many  people  the  mere  out- 
ward is  not  the  best  part  of  them.  Vanity-fairs  are  the  prin- 
cipal scenes  of  their  meeting.  What  wonder  then  that  they 
so  seldom  approximate  in  a  cordial  and  earnest  manner? 
What  wonder  that  marriage  becomes,  especially  among  the 
educated  classes,  more  and  more  rare,  in  proportion  to  the 
many  who  are  able,  and  perhaps  who  would  wish  to  marry  ? 
When  a  winter-season  at  Stockholm  is  over,  people  hear  two 
or  at  most  three  marriages  spoken  of  as  the  result  of  it,  when 
at  the  same  time  many  hundreds  of  young  people  have  flut- 
tered about  with  each  other  at  balls  and  other  social  pleasures. 

If  the  intercourse  of  social  life  were  more  noble,  natural,  and 
simple,  if  young  men  and  women  could  meet  and  become 
acquainted  with  each  other,  during  their  occupation,  at  their 
work-places,  in  academies,  or  in  Christian  societies,  formed  for 
useful  and  good  social  purposes,  they  would  then  be  attracted 
to  each  other  by  the  interest  of  a  common  worthy  purpose,  by 
noble  emulation,  by  friendly  mutual  aid ;  they  would  then 
become  acquainted  ^dth  each  other,  not  merely  by  the  exter- 
nal, but  above  all  by  the  inner  man,  by  heart,  will,  and  ability. 
Then  certainly  many  more  and  much  happier  marriages  would 
be  contracted  than  is  the  case  under  existing  cu'cumstances, 
and  those  half  or  criminal  connections,  which  at  present  people 
the  world  vnth.  so  sorrowfully  increasing  a  number  of  illegiti- 
mate children,  would,  of  a  certainty,  be  greatly  decreased. 


THE   POUR   SISTERS.  345 

The  true  love  would  then  have  fair-play  against  the  false. 
Whereas  the  latter  only  is  favored  by  our  artificial  social  life. 

We  do  not  know  whether  the  people  of  Kungskoping  said 
so  or  not,  but  we  know  that  Dr.  Hedermann  and  his  wife,  as 
well  as  the  sensible  Mimmi  Svanberg,  would  not  contradict 
these  ideas,  founded  on  many  observations  made  behind  the 
scenes,  by  a  participator  in  the  world's  drama  of  life. 

But  we  will  now  return  to  our  Kungskoping,  to  relate  an 
occurrence  which  took  jilace  there,  during  the  time  of  Yngve's 
visit  to  his  native  land,  after  his  first  short  absence  abroad,  and 
before  his  second  long  and  sorro^vful  one. 

It  will,  however,  be  best  introduced  by  the  account  of 


346  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 


A  CONTESTED  ELECTION. 

The  directors  of  the  Kungskoping  lufant-School  are  assem- 
bled, both  gentlemen  and  ladies. 

"  No,  that  shall  not  be,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Tupplander  with 
a  shrill  voice  ;  "  no,  I  will  never  give  my  vote  in  her  favor. 
The  woman  who  has  had  an  illegitimate  child  is  not  a  fit 
person  to  be  the  Supermtendent  of  the  Infant-School.  How 
would  it  look  ?  A  pretty  example  would  hers  be  for  others 
to  follow !     That  I  know  of  a  certainty." 

"  But,"  said  Mimmi  Svanberg  mildly,  "  when  she  now  sets 
so  good  an  example  of  maternal  tenderness,  fulfilment  of  duty, 
industry,  and  many  good  quahties." 

"  What's  the  use  of  it  ?"  screamed  Mrs.  Tupplander,  "  when 
she  has  an  illegitimate  child,  which  proves  beyond  everything 
how  virtuous  she  has  been.  No,  far  better  take  Miss  Von 
Schaf,  who  has  no  blemish  on  her  reputation,  or  Mrs.  Meri- 
tander,  who  has  brought  up  seven  children  herself,  and  is,  in 
every  respect,  a  meritorious  jjerson." 

"  But,"  said  the  pastor's  wife,  "  Miss  Von  Schaf  is  a  weak 
woman,  who  has  no  authority,  would  command  no  respect,  and 
Mrs.  Meritander  is  too  sharp-tempered  and  severe,  her  own  chil- 
dren are  not  the  best  proof  of  her  abihty  for  the  instruction  of 
children.  Of  the  three  who  are  proposed  for  this  situation,  it 
seems  to  me,  that  Amalia  is  incalculably  the  best  fitted  for  the 
purpose,  although  I  concede  that  it  is  an  annoying  circumstance 
that  she  is  not  fii-ee  from  blame.  But  she  has  conducted  her- 
self in  an  exemplary  way  for  several  years,  and  has  during 
Mrs.  N.'s  long  illness,  now  for  two  years,  attended  both  to  her 
and  the  infant-school  in  a  maimer  which  is  really  admirable." 

"  But  then  she  has  a  blemished  reputation,"  shrieked  Mrs. 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  347 

Tupplander ;  "  that  is  the  case  neither  with  Miss  Von  Schaf 
nor  Mrs.  Meritander,  Who  knows  Amaha  Hard's  merits? 
Very  few;  but  everybody  knows  that  she  has  an  illegitimate 
child,  which  she  has  the  shameless — the  peculiarity,  I  will  say, 
of  not  conceahng,  but  always  keeping  with  her." 

"  But  she  never  goes  into  society,"  remarked  a  voice :  it 
was  that  of  Hertha. 

"  What  does  it  matter,"  rephed  Mrs.  Tupplander,  "  whether 
she  is  out  or  in?  It  is  quite  sufficient  that  she  has  her  cliild 
with  her,  and  that  it  is  illegitimate.  She  shall  never  have  my 
support.  It  will  be  a  discredit  to  the  whole  school.  One 
must  pay  some  attention  to  what  peoj^le  think  and  say :  one 
must  have  some  regard  to  chastity  and  good  morals.  What 
would  the  world  say  ?" 

Many  of  the  directors  took  Mrs.  Tupplander's  view  of  the 
case,  and  the  debate  began  to  be  hot  and  stormy,  when 
Yngve  Nordin  requested  attention  to  a  few  words  which  he 
had  to  say. 

"Allow  me  to  inquire,  are  we  not  all  agreed  that  Amalia 
Hard  is,  both  by  her  own  wishes  and  ability,  and  especially  by 
her  motherly  disposition  towards  the  children,  the  most  suita- 
ble of  the  three  candidates  for  the  situation  of  teacher  in  the 
school ?" 

Many  voices  assented  to  this. 

"  Very  well,"  continued  Yngve ;  "  then  let  our  object  be 
the  greatest  benefit  of  the  children,  and  let  us  take  the  best 
instructress  for  them,  and  leave  the  world  to  say  what  it 
Hkes." 

"  But  that's  nothing  to  the  purpose,"  continued  Mrs.  Tupp- 
lander in  her  shrill  tone.  "She  has,  as  the  mother  of  an 
illegitimate  child,  no  right,  no  claim  to  the  place,  and — what 
must  she  be  called ;  what  sort  of  name  can  she  have  ?  " 

"  Call  her  Mother  !  "  said  Hertha's  melodious  grave  voice  • 
"  she  has  suffered  enough  and  endured  enough  to  deserve  the 
beuig  called  so  with  esteem ;  and  I  know  that  she  wishes  not 
to  be  called  by  any  other  name  than  Mother  Amalia^  as  she 
is  already  called  by  all  the  school  children.     Before  God  no 


348  THE  FOUR  SISTERS. 

child  is  illegitimate ;  and  it  ought  not  to  be  called  bO  by  man. 
Let  us  all,  who  have  not  forfeited  the  world's  casual  esteem 
by  a  casual  error,  unite  in  giving  to  Amalia  that  support  and 
reparation  which  she  deserves  from  her  later  conduct ;  let  u.s, 
instead  of  rejecting  her  and  her  child,  do  them  justice,  and 
assist  them  in  becomuig  respectable." 

"  I  put  no  cushions  under  crime — not  I !  "  again  exclaimed 
Mrs.  Tupplander,  and  shook  hei'self  from  right  to  left ;  "  but 
I  vote  for  Mrs.  Meritander !  " 

Yngve  Nordin,  who  seemed  assiduous  in  calUng  forth  the 
fi-ee  expression  of  dissimilar  opinion  among  the  directors,  again 
spoke : 

"If  it  be  especially  the  rank  of  Mrs.,  as  a  married  woman, 
in  which  AmaUa  Hard  is  deficient,  I  am  warranted  in  making 
known  to  the  directors,  that  she  will  in  a  couple  of  weeks  be 
legally  entitled  to  this  rank.  To-morrow  the  bans  wDl  be 
pubUshed  in  the  Town  Church  of  her  marriage  with  the  man 
who  is  father  of  her  child." 

There  was  on  this  announcement  a  general  silence  of 
astonishment.  Mrs.  Tupplander,  quite  beside  herself  with 
surprise,  remained  sitting  with  her  Ups  apart  and  her  eyes 
wide  open,  staring  at  Yngve,  who  continued : 

"  Pecuniary  circumstances  Avill  comjjel  him  for  some  years 
to  remain  abroad,  where  he  has  been  fortunate  enough  to  ob- 
tain a  lucrative  employment.  In  the  mean  time  it  is  his  wish 
to  give  his  betrothed  and  his  child  that  reparation  which  a 
name  can  give,  xmtil  he  is  able  to  return  and  fulfil  his  duty  as 
husband  and  father.  In  the  mean  time  his  wife  can  conduct 
the  infant-school." 

"  Who — who  is  he  ?  if  I  may  ask  ?  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Tupp- 
lander, beside  herself  with  curiosity. 

"That,"  said  Yngve  Nordin,  "will  be  pubHshed  in  the 
morning  from  the  pulpit ;  and  any  one  who  goes  to  church 
may  learn  it.  But  let  us  now  return  to  the  business  of  the 
meetmg — the  election  of  a  mistress," 

The  debate  was  resumed,  but  now  with  increased  advan- 
tage for  Amalia,  and  finally  she  was  elected,  though  by  a 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  349 

small  majority,  because  Mrs.  Meritander  had  various  frienda 
among  the  du-ectors,  who  wished  to  help  her  and  her  children 
to  "  a  living."  JNli-s.  Tupplander,  very  red  and  very  angry, 
withdi-ew  her  name  as  one  of  the  dii-ectors  of  the  mfant- 
school ;  nor  was  any  protest  made  against  her  doing  so,  nor 
any  regret  expressed- 


350  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 


ANOTHER  WEDDlJye. 

Silent  as  love's  whisper  of  pardon  for  past  errors  was  the 
wedding  which,  united  Amalia  Hard  with  Yngve's  brother. 
They  were  married  in  her  room  by  the  well-known  Httle 
pastor:  Yngve  and  Hertha  alone  were  present.  Such  was 
Amaha's  wish. 

After  the  ceremony  was  ended,  a  mother  bent  over  her 
sleeping  child  and  whispered :  "  My  child !  my  child !  sleep 
now  peacefully ;  sleep  sweetly ;  no  one  henceforth  will  call 
thee  illegitimate !     God  has  forgiven  thy  mother !  " 

"  And  thy  father  also  !"  said  a  low  manly  voice,  and  with 
that  Yngve's  brother  laid  his  hand  on  the  boy's  head. 

When  AmaUa  rose  from  her  knees  she  was  clasped  in 
Hertha's  sisterly  embrace.  After  that  Amalia's  husband  led 
her  up  to  Yngve,  saying,  "  Let  us  both  thank  him,  who 
taught  me  my  duty  towards  thee  and  our  child,  and  who 
rendered  it  possible  for  me  henceforth  to  raise  you  up." 

Yngve's  brother  was  also  a  handsome  young  man,  but  of  a 
weaker  character  than  his  elder,  manher  brother. 

"  Let  us  now  eat  and  drink  on  the  affair !"  said  the  httle 
pastor  cheerfully,  "  because  there  cannot  be  a  real  Swedish 
wedding  without  both  eating  and  drinking ;  and  it  does  not 
do  to  hurry  over  marriages  as  those  mad  people,  the  English 
and  the  Americans,  do ;  just  get  the  ring  on  the  bride's 
finger,  then  into  a  carriage,  and  drive  away  to  the  world's  end. 
JSTo  :  let  us  follow  our  forefathers'  jog-trot  manners;  they  never 
forgot,  on  any  suitable  occasion,  both  to  eat  and  to  drink ; 
and,  therefore,  do  you  now  follow  me  to  the  bridal  feast !" 

And  with  that  the  pastor  went  out,  down  stahs,  and  led 
the  httle  company  into  the  school-room,  which   they  found 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  351 

sanded  and  strewn  with  fir-t"\vigs,  and  in  the  middle  a  well- 
covered  table,  at  Avhich  Mimmi  Svanberg  and  the  pastor's 
Avife  were  very  busy. 

This  was  a  surprise  for  Amalia  and  Hertha.  But  there  is 
no  need  for  us  to  say  how  agreeable  was  the  entertainment, 
spiced  as  it  was  with  good-will  and  cordiality. 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day,  Yngve  departed  with 
his  younger  brother,  the  former  to  be  re-called  by  Hertha 
whenever  she  could  give  him  the  hoj)e  of  a  favorable  tm-n  in 
their  affairs,  as  regarded  the  future, 

The  people  of  Kungskoping,  who  m  our  story  occupy  the 
place  of  chorus  in  the  Greek  drama,  made  many  edifying  and 
moral  reflections  upon  this  marriage,  which  upon  the  whole 
was  approved  of,  as  quite  in  order,  although  Mrs.  Uggla  and 
many  other  good  souls  shook  their  heads  as  to  its  future 
prospects.  Amalia  in  the  mean  time  rose  in  the  regards  and 
favor  of  the  town,  and  Mrs.  Tupplander's  enmity  was  strand- 
ed upon  her  good  conduct  and  the  steadfastness  of  her  friends. 

With  respect  to  our  other  friends  and  acquaintances  in 
Kungskoping  during  the  last  seven  years,  we  may  state  that 
Mimmi  Svanberg  continued  to  be  the  councillor  and  the  help- 
er of  all  in  the  town,  whence  she  was  called  by  various  of  her 
friends,  "  the  town-councillor."  We  see  her  always  active ; 
now  with  a  myrtle  crown  for  a  bride  ;  now  present  at  a  fune- 
ral ;  now  making  a  collection  for  a  cripple  who  needed  the 
water-cure  ;  now  with  a  little  bundle  of  coffee  and  sugar  and 
fine  bread  under  her  cloak,  hastening  forth  in  the  twilight  to 
take  a  little  joy  into  a  poor  home ;  or  at  a  great  ball  amid 
joke  and  earnest,  enticing  people  to  help  one  another,  without 
their  being  aware  of  it.  Always  cheerful,  always  kind,  spin- 
ning a  multitude  of  threads  of  mercy,  on  purpose  to  catch 
somebody  in  them,  she  seemed  to  be  always  devising  some 
new  joyous  mode  of  obliging  people,  and  showing  how  happy 
any  one  may  be  by  so  doing. 

Many  wondered  how  Mimmi  Svanberg,  with  only  small 
means  herself,  could  yet  have  the  opportunity  of  doing  so 
much  for  others. 


352  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

"  My  means,"  said  she  on  one  occasion,  with  a  smile  in 
reply  to  such  a  remark,  "  are  human  hearts,  and  our  Lord's 
help." 

And  after  all,  these  ought  to  be  the  surest  funds.  But  one 
must  first  put  trust  in  them. 

Eva  Dufva  blossomed  as  a  rose  at  the  parsonage,  embraced 
with  unspeakable  love  by  her  adopted  parents,  dividing  the 
day  between  healthy  domestic  duties  under  the  guidance  of 
the  jDastor's  wife,  and  affectionate  attention  to  her  new 
parents,  "  for,"  wrote  Mrs.  Dahl  to  one  of  her  friends, 
"  when  the  evening  comes  and  I  go  into  my  comfortable 
chamber  to  rest  after  the  labor  of  the  day,  a  pair  of  small 
arms  are  thrown  around  my  neck,  and  a  sweet  rosy  mouth 
whispers  into  my  ears  caressingly  a  pleasant  name,  and  I  feel 
myself  a  mother,  and  know  that  life  is  rich  and  delightful. 
I  have  never  been  so  happy,  especially  now  that  I  have  Maria 
with  me." 

The  good,  active  pastor's  wife  had  actually  now  the  happi- 
ness of  haAang  tAvo  daughters  in  the  house,  "  and  that  is 
something,"  said  she,  happy  in  having  two,  but  still  longing 
after  more.  She  was,  besides  this,  always  endeavoring  after 
a  better  locale  for  the  infant-school,  but  she  always  met  with  a 
multitude  of  diihculties,  which  were  the  more  to  be  lamented, 
because  the  number  of  children  in  the  school  continually  in- 
creased after  Mother  Amalia  had  the  management,  and  after 
the  little  singer  Mina,  with  the  clear  voice,  and  the  clear,  pious 
eyes,  taught  the  children  such  delightful  songs. 

In  the  mean  time  the  town  Avas  rebuilt,  and  the  family-unions 
extended  and  flourished  thereby,  knitting  up  relationship 
between  the  wealthy  and  the  poor ;  knitting  up  here  and  there 
among  its  members  a  real  union  in  marriage,  or  a  bond  of 
friendship,  such  as  might  satisfy  the  warm  heart's  need.  Such 
was  the  friendship  which  grew  up  between  the  Countess  P. 
and  Mimmi  Svanberg,  beautifymg  the  lives  of  both,  and  con- 
tinuing even  when  the  latter  was  married — but  of  this  some- 
what later. 

Professor  Methodius  had  not  yet  been  able  to  get  his  system 


THE    FOUR   SISTERS.  353 

into  operation,  and  the  first  slieet  of  liis  great  work  liad  been 
set  up  by  the  printer  no  less  than  seven  times. 

The  Protocol  Secretary,  N.  B,,  had  not  yet  finished  his  book 
against  ladies-societies.  Rumor  began  to  say  that  he  himseii' 
"was  in  a  fair  way  to  enter  into  a  private  ladies'  society — that 
he  was  intending  to  get  married  ! 

But  wilt  thou  see,  friendly  reader,  at  the  end  of  these  seven 
years  (and  as  a  consolation  for  all  the  bitter  and  caustic  things 
which  have  been  said  m  this  book  against  matrimony),  a  reaUy 
happy  married  couple,  then  look  into  the  home  of  Dr.  Heder- 
mann  and  his  Ingeborg.  She  always  busy,  domestic,  ready 
aUke  for  rough  or  for  smooth — he,  happy  to  sit  beside  her  with  a 
son  and  daughter  on  his  knees,  and  gazing  with  a  love  which 
borders  upon  reverence  on  his  gentle  wife,  whose  "  camel"  or 
*'  dromedary"  he  every  now  and  then  does  himself  the  honor 
to  become,  either  when  Ingeborg  is  not  strong,  or  not  in  a 
condition  to  walk  far. 

"  But  what  does  it  matter  ?"  says  she ;  "  I  am  really  so 
happy,  after  all !" 

She  is  her  husband's  help,  not  only  at  home,  but  also  in  his 
life,  as  a  good  citizen,  in  her  oversight  of  poor  children,  and  of 
the  doctor's  excellent  institutions  for  them. 

Mrs.  XJggla,  who  cannot  any  longer  sigh  over  the  seven 
Miss  Dufs^as  and  their  future,  as  at  this  time  four  are  married, 
two  are  adopted  at  the  parsonage,  and  the  parents  have  now 
only  one  left  at  home,  whom  they  would  not  part  with  at  any 
price, — Mrs.  Uggla,  who  sees  her  daughter  happy  and  in  the 
best  possible  circumstances,  almost  worshipped  by  the  best  of 
husbands,  whose  only  fault  is  that  of  being  sometimes  "  rather 
queer,"  does  not  rightlj'  know  what  she,  at  the  present  time, 
has  to  sigh  about.  She  has  begun  therefore  to  trouble  herself 
about  all  the  children  which  Ingeborg  may  probably  have,  and 
to  sigh  over  the  future,  especially  if  they  should  be  daugliters. 

All  the  people  of  Kungskoping  had  a  great  deal  to  say  about 

Ilertha's    educational    institution,  and  especially  about    the 

evening  Conversations  of  which  we  have  already  spoken  ;  but 

in  the  m.piii  time,  she  acquired  more  and  more  consequence  in 

22 


354  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

the  town,  and  people  became  generally  agreed  in  the  opinion 
that  the  week-day  school  was  excellent,  and  that  the  Conver- 
sation-lessons might  be  very  useful  as  practice  in  foreign 
languages.  The  young  people  of  the  town  regarded  Hertha 
as  a  sort  of  Sibyl  to  whom  they  silently  or  openly  propounded 
all  important  questions.  They  asked  themselves,  "  What 
would  Hertha  say  ?" 

And  now  we  will  return  to 


THE  FOUR  SISTERS.  355 


HERTHA'S   H03HE. 

MOKNTNG. 

Hertha's  home  was  prepared  as  for  a  festival ;  the  clear 
blue  sky  of  midsummer  and  its  blazing  sun  which  "  came 
forth  Hke  a  bridegroom  from  his  chamber,  and  rejoiced  him- 
self as  a  hero  to  run  his  course,  glanced  in  through  the  open 
windows  of  the  Iduna-hall ;  brilliant  butterflies  fluttered  iu 
upon  the  wings  of  fresh  warm  summer  breezes,  to  salute  the 
lilacs  and  lilies  of  the  valley,  which  exhaled  and  difiused 
fi'agrance  around  the  beautiful  image  of  the  goddess  of  youth. 
It  is  a  glorious  midsummer  morning. 

Do  you  see  that  tall  and  noble  woman,  who  in  snow-white 
attire  stands  in  the  beautiful  room  as  its  priestess?  The 
breeze  plays  with  the  hght,  black-lace  mantle,  which  falls  fi-om 
her  shoulders,  and  caresses  with  a  rejoicing  breath  a  counte- 
nance, which,  though  no  longer  young,  is  nevertheless  pos- 
sessed of  beauty — of  a  peculiar  picturesque  beauty.  The  eyes 
and  forehead,  especially,  are  unusually  full  of  expression, 
whilst  the  bitter  expression  of  the  mouth  is  softened  at  this 
moment  by  a  quiet,  melancholy  smile.  It  is  Hertha,  and 
Hertha  expects  Yngve  home.  This  day,  this  very  morning  he 
is  expected.  And  as  Freya,  of  old,  took  an  oath  of  every- 
thing in  nature  that  it  should  not  hurt  her  beloved  son,  so 
seemed  Hertha  at  this  moment  to  conjure  them  all  to  join 
with  her  in  welcoming  Yngve,  her  friend,  her  soul's  bride- 
groom, and  to  beautify  his  return  home.  She  looked  on  the 
beautiful  plants,  on  the  statues,  on  all  which  make  the  Iduna- 
hall  a  temple  for  the  soiil,  on  the  butterflies,  and  up  to  the 
clear  blue  sky,  with  a  new  love,  because  Yngve  would  soon 


356  THE   FOTIR   STRTERS. 

see  them  in  this  room,  and  she,  as  it  were,  admonished  tliem 
to  be  more  beautiful  than  ever  to  receive  him,  for  all  tliat  was 
hers  was  his  also.  Many,  many  things  on  earth  at  the  same 
time  circumscribed  her  joy  and  her  hope,  but  her  soul  at  this 
moment,  rising  above  every  oppressive  fetter,  ascended  in  a  song 
of  thanksgiving  to  the  Father  in  heaven  for  all  that  she  had 
won  and  for  the  wealth  of  this  moment  on  earth.  As  a  strong 
tree  raises  itself  again  after  the  storm  and  lifts  its  head  aloft 
and  spreads  out  anew  its  branches  as  a  shelter  for  the  birds  of 
heaven,  so  did  Hertha  raise  herself  after  the  conflict  of  so 
many  years,  full  of  thanksgiving,  of  power  and  will  to  comfort 
and  to  bless. 

Her  young  sisters  entered  attired  in  their  best ;  they  also 
expected  Yngve  with  eager  yearning ;  for  it  would  make 
Hertha  so  happy. 

"  How  handsome  you  are  to-day,"  said  they,  embracing 
her ;  "  you  look  like  a  bride  and  hke  a  priestess  at  the  same 
time." 

"  Hush,  hush,  flatterers !"  said  Hertha,  clasping  them  in  her 
arms,  "  you  must  not  spoil  me.    Where  is  our  little  mother  ?" 

It  was  thus  that  Yngve'a  mother  was  spoken  of  by  the 
daughters  of  the  house. 

She  too  entered  from  her  room,  not  unlike  a  happy  shadow, 
so  pale,  but  yet  at  the  same  time  so  full  of  delicious  joy,  in  so 
soon  being  able  to  see  her  beloved  son. 

Breakfast  was  set  out  in  the  Iduna-hall,  in  the  midst  of  lilacs 
and  deliciously  fragrant  lilies  of  the  valley.  The  table  was 
covered  with  the  most  exquisite  delicacies  which  a  country  hfe 
affords ;  nothing  was  wanting  to  complete  the  whole  but  the 
warm  morning  beverage, — this  waited  for  Yngve's  arrival. 
Everything  seemed  to  Avait  for  Yngve. 

That  was  in  the  mornuig  at  Hertha's  home. 


At  this  very  time,  a  scene  of  quite  another  character  was 
witnessed  at  about  three  English  miles'  distance.     A  steamboat 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  35t 

was  seen  burning  on  lake  Wener.  It  was  making  way  towards 
the  nearest  land.  The  shore  towards  which  the  steamer  was 
advancing  was  covered  with  forest,  uninhabited  and  wild. 
The  peasants  of  the  neighborhood  lay  as  yet  sunk  m  their  Sab- 
bath morning  sleep,  and  such  few  as  had  become  aware  of  the 
fatal  mischance,  were  a  long  time  in  getting  the  boats  of  the 
shore  in  action.  The  occiirrence  of  any  accident  to  a  steamboat 
is  so  rare  in  Sweden,  that  people  are  just  as  little  prepared  for 
it  as  they  would  be  for  an  exj)losion  of  the  moon. 

It  was  one  of  the  canal-steamers  on  its  way  from  Gotheborg 
through  the  country,  which  had  this  morning  taken  fire.  The 
passengers,  who  had  been  woke  out  of  their  sleep  by  the  out- 
bursting  of  the  flames,  found  themselves,  as  they  rushed  on 
deck,  enveloped  in  fire.  The  boats  on  board  were  found  to  be 
unfit  for  serWce,  but  the  land  was  near  at  hand ;  they  were 
making  rapid  way  towards  it,  and  all  still  hoped.  Suddenly, 
however,  it  struck ;  the  engine  ceased  to  work,  and  the  fire 
increased  on  all  sides.  They  were  not  many  fathoms  from  land, 
but  the  water  around  the  vessel  was  too  deep  for  any  to  get  to 
shore,  excepting  such  as  could  swim.  An  awful  and  heart- 
rending confusion  prevailed,  amid  which  pale  mothers  besought 
men  to  save  their  children. 

One  of  the  men  sprang  upon  one  of  the  paddle-boxes,  and 
cried  aloud :  "  All  here  who  can  swim,  do  as  I  do !" 

And  with  these  words  he  threw  himself  into  the  water  ;  then 
turning  towards  the  vessel,  he  called  to  a  young  mother,  who 
stood  by  the  gunwale  with  her  child  on  her  arm,  "  Jump  over- 
board !  I  will  catch  you,  and  swim  with  you  and  your  chUd 
to  land.     Don't  be  afraid !" 

She  followed  his  injunction,  just  as  the  flames  caught  her 
dress,  and  he  swam  with  her  to  the  shore.  Another  yoimg 
man  followed  his  example  at  the  same  moment,  and  yet  two 
others.  These  four  brave  men  swam  to  and  from  the  vessel, 
saving  all  who  could  not  save  themselves.  The  first  youngf 
man,  who  was  the  most  energetic  and  the  best  s^wimmer  of  aB, 
rescued  in  this  manner  no  less  than  fourteen  persons,  mostly 
women  and  children     His  cordial  manners  and  great  courage 


358  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

— the  animated  glances  of  his  unusually  fine  eyes — ^his  coolness 
and  skiU — all  contributed  to  give  him  the  confidence  of  every 
one ;  the  chief  hope  of  all  seemed  to  be  centred  in  him.  The 
work  of  rescue  had  been  carried  forward  so  rapidly  and  so  suc- 
cessfully, that  tot  a  single  life  was  lost,  either  among  the  pas- 
sengers or  the  steamer's  company,  nor  yet  even  injured;  and 
although  they  were  compelled  to  see  from  the  shore  the  vessel 
burn  to  the  water's  edge,  and  many  had  to  deplore  the  loss  of 
their  property,  yet  the  predominating  feeling  at  this  moment 
was  that  of  having  been  rescued  from  a  terrible  sudden  death, 
and  of  gratitude  towards  the  brave  men  who  had  saved  them. 

One  of  these  saviors,  however,  the  most  active  of  them,  did 
not  hear  the  thanks  which  were  given  to  him.  He  lay,  a  little 
apart  from  the  throng,  upon  the  mossy  turf  of  the  forest,  and 
a  clear  stream  of  blood  poured  fi-om  his  mouth  over  the  mass 
and  the  Hng.  His  cheeks,  lately  crimsoned  as  by  the  flush  of 
fever,  now  were  ashy  pale,  and  those  beautiful  eyes  were  closed 
as  in  the  sleep  of  death.  Silent  and  terrified,  the  lately  saved 
throng  gathered  aroimd ;  the  women  weeping,  because  he  was 
dying  from  the  eftbrts  he  had  made  on  behalf  of  themselves 
and  their  children.  Yet  an  attentive  observer  might  have 
remarked,  from  his  sunken  cheeks,  that  death  had  long  before 
begun  its  work  in  him  and  undermined  his  health.  Still,  how- 
ever, he  is  beautiful,  as  he  lies  there  with  his  well-developed 
chest,  bared  to  the  wind,  and  the  drenched,  rich,  dark-brown 
iiair  thrown  back  from  the  pure  forehead.  The  dark  pine-trees 
extended  quietly  over  him  their  waving  branches,  as  if  they 
^■ould  shelter  him  from  the  hot  beams  of  the  sun. 

"  Who  is  he  ?"  asked  all  aloud,  or  in  an  undertone.  "His 
dress  looks  like  that  of  a  foreigner,  but  his  speech  and  his 
countenance,  with  its  good,  manly  expression,  are  Swedish." 

"  My  brother !  my  brother !"  exclaimed  a  voice  of  deep 
anguish,  and  a  yomig  man  pressed  through  the  crowd,  flung 
himself  upon  the  ground  beside  the  apparently  d}dng  man, 
and  laid  his  ear  to  his  heart.  He  again  sprang  up  and  ex- 
cljamed :  "  Take  care  of  him !  Let  nobody  remove  him  from 
this  place  before  I  return !" 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  359 

And  with  these  words  he  rushed  through  the  forest  in  the 
direction  of  Kungskoping. 

The  remainder  stood  irresolute  round  the  pale  young  man. 
Grateful  hands  wiped  the  blood  from  his  lips,  and  bathed  his 
temples  with  water  from  the  cold  forest-sprin  f.  He  lay  quite 
still  with  closed  eyes,  and  they  knew  not  whether  he  was  alive 
or  dead ;  they  could  not  perceive  that  he  breathed.  But  to 
remove  him  they  dared  not.  In  the  mean  time  the  greater 
number  of  the  people  began  to  proceed  to  the  town,  because 
they  could  thence  send  help,  and  besides,  each  one  had  to  care 
for  himself  and  his  to  find  lodgings,  dry  clothes,  etc.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  peasants  of  the  surrounding  district  collected 
and  formed  a  close  circle  around  the  young  man,  who  seemed 
to  have  bled  to  death,  or  to  contemplate  the  vessel  which  lay 
upon  the  mirror-Hke  lake,  with  extinguished  engine-fires,  but 
still  burning  huU. 

They  talked  about  Yngve. 

"  He  is  certainly  dead,"  said  one.  "  He  ought  not  to  he 
here,"  said  another.  "  He  ought  to  be  carried  to  the  town, 
to  the  doctor,"  said  a  third. 

"  Do  not  touch  him !"  cried  one  of  the  women  whom  he  had 
saved,  and  who  faithfully  kept  watch  by  his  side  :  "  the  efliu- 
sion  of  blood  would  begin  afresh,  and  he  would  die  by  the 
way.  We  must  wait ;  of  a  certainty  some  one  will  soon  come 
to  him  fi'om  the  town."  And  she  related  to  the  astonished 
hstening  people  the  noble  achievements  of  the  stranger  that 
morning. 

They  waited  in  silence ;  the  sun  ascended  higher  in  the 
lieavens,  and  penetrated  the  thick  forest  with  his  beams.  It 
grew  very  hot.      The  throng  talked  together  in  a  low  voice: 

"  What  a  pity  for  the  young  man  !"  said  one  woman  ;  "  he 
looks  just  like  one  of  God's  angels  !" 

"A  brave  fellow!"  said  an  old  peasant,  "and  one  of  the 
gentlefolks,  too.  It  would  be  a  good  thing  to  have  many  such 
in  the  coimtry  if  the  enemy  came." 

The  sun  rose  higher  and  higher,  and  the  pine-tree  branches 
no  longer  sheltered  the  dying  man  from  its  fiery  rays.     "  We 


360  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

cannot  stay  here  the  Avliole  clay,"  said  the  peasants;  "we 
must  go  home,  but  we  will  first  carry  him  into  the  nearest 
cottage." 

"  Wait !"  still  besought  the  faithful  watcher  ;  "  wait  a  little 
while  longer  !     Some  one  will  soon  come." 

Some  one  came.  A  tall  lady,  clad  in  white,  came  through 
the  wood  with  rapid  steps  ;  she  was  followed  by  men  with  a 
softly-cushioned  bier.  The  crowd  hastily  opened  at  sight  of 
her  calm  commanding  presence,  and  made  way  for  her.  She 
knelt  by  the  side  of  the  unconscious  man,  laid  her  hand  upon 
his  heart,  and  then  her  ear  to  his  mouth.  She  then  smUed 
and  looked  up : 

"  He  still  breathes  !  he  Hves  !  " 

She  made  a  sign  to  the  men  with  the  bier;  she  herself 
raised  Yngve's  head  upon  her  arm,  and  carefully,  with  the 
help  of  the  men,  placed  him  gently  upon  it. 

"Friends!"  said  she,  addressing  some  of  the  crowd,  "go 
on  before  us  and  clear  the  way  through  the  wood,  so  that  no- 
thing may  impede  us.  No  one  who  serves  this  man  to-day 
shall  fail  to  be  well  rewarded  by  me !  " 

Willingly,  but  silently,  they  obeyed  Ilertha's  command. 
She  was  known  and  respected  throughout  the  country ;  she 
was  well  known  in  the  dwellings  of  the  distressed ;  and, 
besides  that,  every  one  felt  deep  sympathy  for  the  young  man 
whose  noble  actions  that  very  day  they  knew. 

"  Now,  gently,  step  for  step,  through  the  forest  to  the  town," 
said  Hertha.  And  on  went  the  procession  of  men,  women, 
and  children,  dressed  in  the  Sabbath  and  holiday  attire  of  the 
country,  and  soon  opened  a  way  through  the  forest.  Close 
beside  Yngve's  pillow  walked,  watchfully,  two  women — she 
whom  he  had  so  lately  saved,  and  she  whom  he  loved  so 
deeply,  and  who  now  turned  aside  everything  which  might 
touch  his  face — ah !  dearer  to  her  now,  as  it  lay  in  the 
shadow  of  death,  than  it  ever  had  been  in  the  full  glory  of 
life.  When  the  procession  emerged  from  the  forest  into  the 
blaze  of  the  sun,  these  two  ladies  held  over  the  head  of  the 
slumberer  leafy  branches  which  they  had  broken  off  for  that 
purpose ;  and  thus  they  reached 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  361 


HERTHA'S  HOME. 


IX   THE   EVENING. 


The  bridegroom  is  iii  the  liouse  of  the  bride,  but  the  Aved« 

ding that  is  a  long  way  oif !     Fartlier  off  it  seems  now, 

than  it  ever  did  before,  for  Yngve  seems  at  the  point  of 
death ;  yet  he  lives ;  great  is  the  power  of  love,  great  also 
sometimes  is  the  power  of  the  physician's  art.  The  physician 
is  sent  for,  and  m  the  mean  time  Hertha  is  alone  with  Yngve. 
She  kissed  his  mouth,  his  eyes,  his  cheek ;  she  kissed  his  cold 
hand.  Who  can  now  deny  her  that  ?  She  can  now  permit 
herself  to  do  so,  for  he  will,  indeed,  soon  die.  The  angels  in 
heaven  could  not  have  given  kisses  of  purer  or  more  unselfish 
love.  Never  had  she  kissed  the  life-warm  young  man  with  a 
love  like  that  with  which  she  now  kissed  those  cold  and  life- 
less lips ! 

And  those  kisses  of  Hertha's  have  aVoke  Yngve  from  his 
death-slumber.  He  fixes  his  eyes  upon  her ;  he  inhales  new 
life  from  her  glances.  He  raises  himself  He  soon  rests  his 
head  upon  her  shoulder,  and  he  whispers  M'ords  of  love  and 
joy  at  seeing  her  again.  But  Hertha  lays  her  finger  u^jon 
his  Hjis,  he  must  not  talk  now.  Soon  comes  the  physician  to 
see  what  he  can  do. 

Dr.  Hedermann  is  here  ;  he  gives  the  patient  a  composing 
draught,  which  is  administered  by  Hertha's  hand.  Perfect 
rest  is  prescribed.  Hertha  alone  may  be  near  Yngve.  He 
cannot  bear  her  from  his  presence ;  he  follows  her  Avith  his 
eyes;  he  seems  to  live  in  her  sight.  In  the  course  of  a  lew 
hours  his  pulse  has  become  stronger;  he  gazes  intelligibly 
around  him,  he  can  sit  up ;  he  would  talk  even,  if  he  miLrlit 


362  THE   FOUR   SISTERS 

"be  permitted.  But  Hertha  allows  it  not.  The  physician 
warns  of  great  danger,  but  still  gives  hope.  Yngve  may 
possibly  live. 

Oh,  how  softly  Hertha  moves  around  him,  and  strengthens 
and  consoles  him  sUently  by  her  presence,  her  own  soul's  ful- 
ness and  strength.  Yngve's  mother  cannot  do  as  much  for 
him  now,  because  her  own  physical  weakness  has  overcome 
her  soul's  strength,  and  she  cannot  look  at  him  without  tears. 

Bat  Hertha  has  not  this  day  shed  a  tear.  It  is  now  no  time 
for  weeping. 

The  doctor  has  ordered  a  warm  foot-bath  for  Yngve  in 
order  to  draw  the  blood  from  the  chest.  It  is  prepared  for 
him  in  the  evening  twilight,  and  mingled  with  beneficial  and 
fragrant  spices.  In  the  hour  of  twilight  Yngve  sat  and 
enjoyed  its  luxury.  He  asked  not  now  whose  are  the  soft 
hands  which  bathe  his  feet.  He  closes  his  eyes  and  dreams 
himself  back  to  the  time  when  he  was  a  child  in  his  mother's 
home  and  her  hands  tended  him.  They  would  gladly  do  it 
now,  but  they  have  become  too  feeble,  and  it  is  not  the 
mother,  but  she,  who  regards  herself  as  his  wife,  who  laves  his 
feet  and  calls  the  warmth  of  life  down  into  the  stiffened  limbs. 
Yngve  had  closed  his  eyes,  leaning  back  among  the  pillows  of 
the  easy  chair ;  Hertha  believed  that  he  slumbered,  and  when 
she  saw  in  his  still  handsome  but  emaciated  countenance  the 
ravages  of  suflfering  and  hope  long  deferred,  her  tears  fell  for 
the  first  time  that  day.  They  fell  upon  Yngve's  feet  which 
she  held  in  her  lap,  and  she  let  down  her  rich  and  beautiful 
hair,  and  dried  them  with  it.  Yngve  had  often  reproached 
Hertha  for  not  being  able  to  love  as  he  loved,  for  not  under- 
standing what  love  was,  and  she  had  sometimes  thought  that 
there  was  justice  in  his  reproach;  but  now  she  felt  that  there 
was  not. 

At  night  Hertha  sat  watching  by  Yngve's  bed ;  he  slept, 
but  uneasily,  and  often  awoke  as  if  terrified  by  fearful  dreams, 
but  at  the  first  glance  of  that  flxithful  friend,  he  smiled  and 
was  calm.  During  the  stillness  of  the  night  Hertha  prepared 
herself  for  the  morrow's  combat  with  her  father. 


THE   FOUR  SISTERS.  363 


;  FATHER  AND  DAUGHTER 

YET   OKCE   MORE. 

Early  in  the  morning  Hertha  entered  her  father's  room. 
She  saw,  by  his  threatenmg  and  angry  countenance,  the 
tempest  which  awaited  her.  But  she  was  now  in  that  state  of 
mind  when  the  soul  takes  no  heed  of  fear,  and  feels  a  deter- 
mination and  a  power  in  its  will  which  assures  it  of  victory. 
Therefore  is  she  so  calm,  so  composed  in  her  demeanor,  glance, 
and  voice.     The  strength  Ues  in  the  depth  of  the  will. 

The  Chief-Director  was  deceived  by  this,  and  began  with  a 
stern  voice : 

"  "VYhat  hberty  is  this  which  you  are  taking  in  my  house  ? 
How  dared  you,  ^dthout  asking  my  permission,  to  bring  a 
stranger  hither  ?     Are  you,  or  am  I,  master  of  this  house  ?" 

"  You,  my  father !"  replied  Hertha.  "  But  Yngve  is  in  his 
mother's  room  ;  is  her  guest,  not  mine." 

The  old  man  knew  not  for  a  moment  what  to  say  to  this, 
but  continued  to  look  at  his  daughter  with  an  angry  exj^res- 
sion,  and  then  said : 

-'  At  all  events,  I  ought  to  have  been  asked,  been  consulted 
wich 1  ought  mdeed  to  have  a  voice  in  my  own  house  !" 

"Father,"  said  Hertha,  with  sad  earnestness,  "you  are 
right,  I  might  have  asked  your  permission,  have  consulted 
with  you,  but — you  have  made  me  afraid  of  you,  and  the  fear 
of  strife,  and  the  fear  of  your  refusing  me  my  prayer,  pre- 
vented my  coming  to  you  yesterday,  because  I  must  have  my 
own  way  as  regards  Yngve.  But  to-day — to-day  I  have  come 
to  talk  with  you,  to  ask  your  consent  to  what  I  propose,  to 
what  must  be  done."' 


364  THE  FOUE  SISTERS. 

"  Must^''  repeated  the  Chief-Director,  astonished,  "  what  is 
it  that  must  be  done  ?" 

Hertha  continued  as  before  :  "  Yngve  is  dying.  The  most 
Avatchful  tenderness  can  alone,  by  any  possibiUty,  save  him.  I 
wish  to  marry  him,  that  I  may  have  the  right  to  attend  ixpon 
him  as  his  wife." 

The  Chief  Director  looked  at  her  with  an  immoveable  gaze, 
and  seemed  to  be  turning  over  in  his  mind  the  means  of 
opposition. 

"  Father,"  resumed  Hertha,  "  for  more  than  seven  years  1 
have  waited  for  the  freedom  which  you  promised  me  on  one 
occasion,  and  which  I  consider  as  my  right,  that  of  disposing 
of  my  own  person  and  my  own  future  ;  I  have  waited  for  your 
consent ;  I  have  bowed  myself  to  your  will.  I  cannot  do  it 
any  longer.  The  life  of  another  is  at  stake.  I  have  taken  my 
resolution.  Do  not  drive  me  to  extremes.  You  may  deny  me 
my  freedom,  forbid  me  to  become  Yngve's  wife,  but  nothing 
in  this  world  shall  henceforth  prevent  me  from  remaining 
with  Yngve,  and  being  his  faithful  attendant,  even  though 
I  should  forfeit  my  reputation  by  doing  so  ?" 

"  Do  you  threaten  ?  do  you  defy  me  ?  will  you  compel 
me  ?"  out  burst  the  Director,  beside  hunself  with  rage.  "  You 
intend  perhaps  to  cite  me  before  a  Court  of  Justice ;  to  diag 
your  father  into  a  court  of  law !" 

"  Never!"  returned  Hertha,  pale  and  calm  as  before,  "  but 
I  warn  you,  my  father ;  I  tell  you  what  will  be  the  conse- 
quence if  you  forbid  me  to  fulfil  my  duty  to  my  betrothed. 
Do  not  do  this,  my  father,  and  fear  nothing  from  me.  Every- 
thing in  your  family  will  remain  just  as  it  was  before.  I  shall 
demand  nothing  from  you  as  my  guardian,  excepting  what 
you  yourself  may  think  well  to  give,  Yngve  and  I  possess 
sufficient  means  for  the  present  time.  If  he  recover  we  shall 
want  nothing.  Have  no  fear  of  us,  my  father,  and  give  your 
consent  to  that  which  I  ask.  Othei'wise  I  shall,  with  Yngve, 
seek  another  home  than  yours." 

"  Do  yoii  promise,"  said  the  Chief-Director,  gloomily,  "  to 
be  satisfied  with  such  a  statement  of  your  mother's  inheritance 


THE    FOUR   SISTERS.  365 

as  I  shall  render ;  will  you  promise  that  on  your  own,  and 
your  future  husband's  account  ?" 

"  I  promise,  my  father !  You  know  that  you  may  depend 
upon  me !" 

"  Are  you  prepared,  you  and  your  future  husband,  to  give 
me  a  written  engagement  to  that  effect  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Well  then,  send  for  the  clergyman  when  you  like.  Only, 
I  will  have  no  bridal  ceremonies,  no  company  invited  ;  that  I 
will  be  excused ;  do  you  hear  ?" 

"Yes  ;  and  there  is  no  need  of  invitations.  Bridal  ceremo- 
nies would  not  be  seemly  at  a  dying-bed.  I  thank  you,  my 
father !'' 

Thus  separated,  for  this  time,  father  and  daughter. 


366  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 


THE  WEDDING. 

Again  we  see  the  Iduna-hall.  A  small,  silent  company  ia 
assembled  there,  in  the  midst  of  which  is  a  man  still  young, 
though  he  evidently  has  not  long  to  live,  for  "  roses  of  the 
grave  "  bloom  upon  his  sunken  cheeks,  and  the  fine  eyes  are 
bright  with  a  supernatural  radiance.  This  was  the  bride- 
groom. All  seemed  to  wait.  Anon  a  door  was  opened,  and 
accompanied  by  her  maidens  and  beautiful  from  the  expression 
of  nobility  and  earnestness,  entered  the  pale  but  stately  bride, 
with  the  myrtle  crown  on  her  golden  hair. 

Here  in  the  circle  of  their  nearest  connections,  were  united 
Yngve  and  Hertha,  by  the  warm-hearted  Httle  pastor,  who 
was  so  deeply  aifected  by  the  scene,  that  he  was  scarcely  able 
to  read  the  marriage  ceremony,  but  from  that  very  cause 
spoke  M^ith  stiU  deeper  emphasis  the  benediction  on  the  new- 
married  pair,  who  seemed  to  be  united  rather  for  death  than  life. 

And  yet  they  looked  moi'e  happy,  nay  more  blessed,  these 
two,  than  bridal  couples  do  in  general. 

Mimmi  Svanberg  is  present  at  the  marriage,  and  by  her 
lively  loquacity  introduces  a  little  gaiety  into  the  seriousness  of 
the  solemnity.  It  is  the  Chief  Director  in  particular  whom 
she  devotes  herself  to  enhven,  and  she  actually  succeeds  in 
calling  up  now  and  then  a  smile  on  his  morose  countenance. 
Hertha  and  Yngve  are  all-sufiicient  to  each  other.  Yngve  is 
better  this  evening  than  he  has  been  since  his  return.  The 
fulness  and  the  importance  of  the  time  seem  to  have  given 
him  a  renewed  life.  But  his  affectionate  wife  watches  over 
him  and  wiU  not  allow  him  to  give  hunself  up  to  the  aug- 
mented excitement  of  the  moment,  without  soon  recalhng  him 
from  the  company  to  stillness  and  silence  with  her.  Thus,  as 
in  former  years,  she  again  supported  him  on  her  faithful  arm. 


THE  FOUR  SISTERS.  SG7 


A  SUNBEAM. 

Ma2j^ — "  he  Cometh  hke  a  flower,  and  is  cut  down  ;  he  fleeth 
also  as  a  shadow,  and  continueth  not." 

These  words  often  sounded  in  Hertha's  memory  during  the 
days  which  succeeded,  and  when  she  saw  Yngve  decHne  more 
and  more  in  strength,  more  and  more  bend  towards  the  grave. 

But  God  in  his  love  often  permits  his  servant  to  beautify 
for  days  and  months  the  pilgrimage  of  a  beloved  being  towards 
"  The  second  hght."     This  was  Hertha's  privilege. 

Yngve  seemed,  especially  dm'ing  the  few  weeks  after  his 
return  home,  to  revive,  as  it  were,  and  acquire  new  strength. 
The  presence  of  Hertha  and  his  mother,  their  care  and  affec- 
tion, the  peacefalness  and  pleasantness  with  which  Hertha 
surrounded  him,  aE  operated  most  beneficially  upon  him.  Two 
rooms  on  the  other  side  of  the  Iduna-hall  were  fitted  up  espe- 
cially for  him — for  the  house  was  spacious  and  contained  much 
more  room  than  the  family  required,  and  the  Chief-Director 
himself  made  no  objection  to  his  daughter's  ordering  and 
arranging  everything  as  she  pleased  in  the  house  when  he 
saw  that  Yngve's  residence  there  increased,  instead  of  dimi- 
nishing, the  family  income. 

Yngve  passed  daily  a  few  hours  in  the  Iduna-hall.  The 
influence  of  the  summer,  the  wholesome  diet  which  was  sup- 
l^lied,  produced  a  feeling  of  physical  well-beiag,  such  as  he  had 
not  experienced  for  a  long  time.  He  began  himself  to  have 
faith  in  his  restoration  to  health. 

"  How  can  I  be  otherwise  than  well,  here  with  you  ?"  said 
he  fi-equently  to  Hertha ;  "  you  seem  to  possess  a  health-giving 
power." 

Towards  autumn,  however,  the  daily  fever  returned  with 
augmented  force.    In  order  to  devote  herself  to  Yngve, 


36S  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

Hertha  was  obliged  to  leave  the  week-day-school  in  a  great 
measure  to  the  care  of  her  sister  Maria  and  Olof  E.  But  she  still 
coutiuued  her  hohday-school ;  and  its  Conversation-lessons  con- 
stituted one  of  Yngve's  greatest  enjoyments.  But  he  only  took 
l)art  in  them  by  speaking  merely  now  and  then  a  word.  If  hia 
interest  in  any  subject  under  discussion  induced  him  to  do 
more,  or  if  he  became  animated  in  conversation,  an  affec- 
tionate, and  at  the  same  time  beseeching  and  commanding 
glance  from  Plertha  forbad  it.  Sometimes  with  affectionate 
pleasantry  she  would  present  him  with  an  occupation  better 
suited  to  his  strength,  by  placing  before  him  a  basket  filled 
with  fresh  flowers  and  fruits  of  the  season,  which  it  was  always 
a  pleasure  for  Yngve  to  distribute  among  the  young  people, 
and  it  was  beautiful  to  see  the  httle  flock  of  life-enjoying 
youth  surrounding  Yngve's  chair  Avith  looks  of  reverence  and 
love. 

Hertha  looked  on  with  an  expression  in  which  tender  joy 
contended  with  sorrow.  For  she  could  not  disguise  from 
herself  that  the  hand  which  now  so  kindly  distributed  fruits 
and  flowers,  and  then  pressed  hers  so  wannly — that  this  fever- 
ish hand  would  before  long  lie  stiff  and  cold  in  the  grave.  At 
this  thought  a  dagger  seemed  to  pierce  her  heart,  and  she 
repressed  with  difficulty  a  con  vulsive  sigh.  Yet  she  did  repress  it. 

When  winter  came,  with  its  clear  days  and  fresh  snow,  and 
the  bulfinch  sang  in  the  trees,  ghstening  with  crystals  of  ice, 
again  Yngve's  strength  revived,  and  Avith  it  his  hope  of  life. 
He  so  thoroughly  enjoyed  the  glorious  winter  of  his  native 
land,  and  all  those  home-comforts  which  few  countries  possess 
in  equal  measure  with  our  own  rural  homes.  He  was  now  able 
sometimes  to  sit  with  his  father-in-law  over  his  evening  pipe  by 
the  crackling  pine-log  fire,  and  the  Chief  Director  was  never 
unfriendly  towards  Yngve,  and  appeared  always  glad  to  Pee 
him.  Yngve  sometimes  even  playfully  assisted  Aunt  Nella  to 
entangle  her  skein,  imder  pretence  of  bringing  it  into  order; 
in  a  word,  he  was  now  occasionally  the  life-enjoying  Yngve  of 
former  days.  But  it  was  only  the  blazing-up  of  the  lamp 
before  it  became  extinguished  for  ever.      Towards  spring  hia 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  3(59 

strength  visibly  and  rapidly  declined,  and  an  unusual  depres- 
sion at  times  took  hold  upon  his  mind.  Hertha  saw  that  "a 
struggle  was  going  forward  in  his  soul."  She  understood  it, 
because  she  herself  was  passing  through  a  silent  conflict,  and 
that  for  his  sake.  And  they  conquered  together.  Yngve 
submitted  himself  to  his  doom  in  loving  obedience,  and  seemed 
thenceforward  only  more  fully  to  enjoy  all  which  that  beautiful 
life  had  still  to  offer  him — above  all,  Hertha's  love.  The  weaker 
he  became,  the  more  he  loved  to  have  her  sitting  by  his  side, 
and  to  rest  his  head  upon  her  shoulder. 

Thus  they  sate  one  day  towards  the  close  of  May,  v/hen  the 
fruit  trees  opened  their  blossoms  to  the  warm  sun,  and  the  soft 
vernal  wind,  entering  through  the  open  windows  of  the  Iduna- 
hall,  sported  with  the  leaves  of  the  plants  which  stood  there. 
Yngve  enjoyed  these  delicious  vernal  breezes.  A  branch  of 
newly-opened  apple-blossom  lay  on  Hertha's  lajD,  and  his  hand 
played  with  it  as  he  admired  its  beauty. 

The  contrast  between  ever-flourishing  and  blossoming  nature 
and  the  dying  man  was  great,  and  Hertha,  otherwise  so 
watchftil  over  herself,  could  not  prevent  her  tears  from  falling. 
One  fell  on  Yngve's  hand ;  he  raised  it  to  his  hps  and  said : 

"  How  beautiful,  my  Hertha !  to  know  that  Nature  is  blood 
of  our  blood,  flesh  of  our  flesh,  and  life  of  our  life ;  that  it 
will  rise  again  and  be  transfigured  with  us  beyond  the  gi'ave, 
through  Him  who  has  hfe  in  Himself! — a  new  Heaven  is  not 
without  a  new  Earth !  Iduna  and  her  fruits  are  imperishable 
truth !     Iduna  is  an  immortal  thought !" 

Hertha  could  not  answer,  but  she  knew  that  he  understood 
her  thoughts,  and  that  he  who  reconciled  her  to  life  will  now 
reconcile  her  to  death  by  his  death.  She  bowed  her  head  to 
his,  and  kissed  his  forehead.  It  felt  so  extraordinarily  damp 
and  cold. 

"  How  are  you,  my  Yngve  ?  "  whispered  she. 

"  Well ! "  he  replied ;  "  very  well,  just  noAv !  "  And  he 
seemed  to  sink  into  a  soft  slumber. 

Hertha  embraced  him  supportingly.  His  head  sunk  to  her 
breast,  and  seemed  heavy ;  she  no  longer  heard  him  breathe. 
23 


370  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

She  thus  sat  immoveably,  and  her  sisters  entering,  found  her 
sitting  almost  as  rigid,  almost  as  cold  as  him  whom  she  held 
in  her  arms  clasped  to  her  bosom. 

The  three  bore  Yngve  sUently  to  his  room,  and  laid  him  on 
his  bed.  He  slept — slept  deeply — and  the  kisses  of  his  Avife 
could  not  wake  him  more. 


THE   FOUR  SISTERS  371 


THE  ANGEL  OF  DEATH, 

Te  sons  of  Adam  of  frail  earth's  shaping, 

Crumbling  again  into  the  same  I 
Te  are  mine ;  ye  are  Death's ;  there  is  no  escaping 
Since  sin  into  the  world  first  came. 

I  stand  in  the  east, 

And  the  western  clime; 

And  a  thousand  voices 

Ye  guests  of  Time 
I  bring  ye,  the  Lord  of  Heaven's  commands, 
From  air  and  fire,  from  seas  and  lands. 

Te  plan  and  build  as  the  small  bird  buildeth 

Her  nest  in  the  summer's  verdant  bower ; 
She  singeth  in  joy,  and  the  forest  shieldetb 
The  home  of  her  love  one  little  hour; 
But  where  is  the  wild  bird, 
And  where  are  her  halls. 
When  the  tempest  raves 
And  the  strong  tree  falls  ? 

We  frequently  see  a  family  stand  for  a  great  number  of 
years,  unmoved  by  the  changes  or  tempests  of  tune,  and 
growing  in  calm  security,  when  suddenly  a  storm  comes, 
which,  within  a  few  months  or  weeks,  carries  off  its  members 
or  changes  its  circumstances,  so  that  it  is,  as  it  were,  oblite- 
rated from  the  earth,  and  is  mentioned  there  no  more.  It  is 
the  Angel  of  Death  which  has  gone  forth  thither.  Such  are 
occasionally  the  devastations  of  a  tempest,  which  in  a  few 
hours  mows  down,  Uke  corn,  both  the  old  and  the  young 
trees  of  the  forest,  wliich  had  otherwise  stood  unremoved  for 
years. 

Such  a  dispensation  of  Providence  swept  over  Hertha's 
family.    After  Yngve's  decease  one  death  followed  another  in 


3'72  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

rapid  succession.  First  died  Yngve's  mother,  or,  more  cor- 
rectly speaking,  peacefully  Avent  to  sleep  a  few  days  after  her 
son's  departure,  thankful  and  rejoicing  to  be  able  to  follow 
him.  Very  shortly  the  Chief  Director  had  an  attack  of 
apoplexy,  in  consequence  of  the  violent  agitation  of  mind 
caused  by  the  then  position  of  the  great  lawsuit,  in  which  he 
was  compelled  to  pay  down  a  large  sum  of  money.  He  re- 
covered, it  is  true,  in  some  measure;  but  paralysed  in  the 
lower  hmbs,  and  after  a  severe  struggle  with  death,  because 
he  would  not  die,  but  live,  and  continue  as  formerly  alone  to 
govern  the  pecuniary  aifairs  of  the  family  without  taking 
counsel  with  any  one.  He  felt  himself,  so  he  declared,  as 
strong  and  capable,  as  regarded  his  powers  of  mind,  as  he 
ever  had  been,  and  he  felt  convinced  that  he  should  perfectly 
recover  his  health,  and  live  many  years.  He  took  after  his 
grandfather,  he  said,  who  had  lived  to  be  a  hundred  years  of 
age.  With  this  prospect  before  him  he  concentrated  all  his 
attention  and  all  his  care  still  more  exclusively  upon  himself, 
seeming  to  consider  his  restoration  to  health  as  the  only  im- 
portant thmg  in  the  world.  Nevertheless  he  was  not  alto- 
gether regardless  of  the  anxious  charge  which  his  daughters 
had  in  him,  and  he  attached  himself  especially  to  Hertha,  with 
a  kuid  of  childish  confidence  ;  and  she,  from  the  hour  in  which 
she  saw  in  this  despotic  father,  a  weak,  ailing  child,  felt  once 
mere  that  she  could  love  him — could  watch  over  him  with 
love.  She  thanked  God  for  this  renewed  sentiment  of  filial 
affection,  and  took  little  thought  of  all  the  weary  watching 
and  wearing  anxiety  of  mind  which,  together  with  her  own 
heart's  silent  sorrow,  more  and  more  undermined  her  strength. 
And  though  her  father  occasionally  acknowledged  her  devoted 
affection,  and  appeared  contented  if  he  only  saw  her  in  his 
room,  he  still  merely  thought  of  her  with  regard  to  himself, 
and  his  selfishness  seemed  only  to  increase  as  his  powers  de- 
creased. One  day,  towards  the  close  of  summer,  a  wasp  had 
flown  into  his  chamber,  and  they  sought  to  drive  it  out 
through  the  window. 

"  Let  it  be !"  said  he  impatiently,  "  it  won't  sting  me  /" 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  3^3 

A  few  hours  after  he  was  dead. 

Hertha's  apprehensions  as  to  the  state  of  her  flither's  aifairs 
proved,  on  his  death,  only  to  be  too  well  founded.  The  Chief 
Director  died  a  ruined  man.  The  maternal  inheritance  of  his 
daughters.  Aunt  Nella's  forty  years'  savings,  and  his  own 
property,  had  all  been  swallowed  up  by  the  great  lawsuit, 
which  was  still  going  on  at  his  death,  and  which  he  probably 
still  hoped  in  his  last  moments  to  win.  During  a  slight  deli- 
rium, which  came  on  a  few  hours  before  his  death,  he  talked 
incessantly  of  carrying  his  cause  before  the  supreme  court. 
And  he  did  so — but  before  a  much  higher  tribunal  than  he 
had  thought  of. 

Poor  little  Aunt  ISTella  did  not  long  survive  the  death  of  her 
brother-in-law,  and  the  result  of  the  great  lawsuit.  During 
the  last  few  days  of  her  life  she  was  incessantly  searching 
among  the  papers  of  the  large  portfolio,  and  talking  to  herself 
about  the  mislaid  documents  and  the  lost  lawsuit.  And  thus 
also  her  confused  but  innocent  soul  appeared  before  the  Su- 
preme tribunal,  where  she  had  no  cause  to  dread  a  severe  ver- 
dict. Anna,  the  faithful  old  servant  of  the  family,  soon  fol- 
lowed her  master. 

Hertha,  left  alone  in  her  home,  with  her  sisters,  was  now 
possessed  of  nothing,  excepting  what  she  herself  had  acquired 
by  her  own  labor,  and  the  small  sum  of  money  which  was 
left  her  by  Yngve. 

"  We  are  now  poor !"  said  she  to  her  sisters,  as  she  clasped 
them  in  her  arras ;  "  but  we  are  able  to  work ;  we  can  earn 
our  bread  in  the  sweat  of  our  brows  and  never  complain,  but 
on  the  contrary  thank  God.  It  will  give  us  strength.  Pro- 
mise me,  never  to  say  a  word  in  accusation  of  our  father  !" 

Hertha  Avrote  in  her  Diary  at  this  time  as  follows : — 

"Yngve  is  gone,  and  with  him  all  joy  on  earth.  Work 
remains.  And  now — to  work !  Work  for  daily  bread,  for  the 
dear  sisters'  future,  and  for  that  calling  which  God  has  given 
me.  I  shall  not  lay  do'wn  my  pilgrim's  staff  so  long  as  this  hand 
is  able  to  hold  it.  But — I  feel  it  already  tremble.  God !  be 
my  stay  and  strengthen  me,  for  the  sake  of  my  motherless  ones !" 


3Y4  THE  FOUR   SISTERS. 

Without  a  complaint  for  that  which  was  past,  Hertha  turned 
"with  earnest  zeal  to  the  object  which  would  henceforward  alone 
support  her  and  her  sisters,  as  well  as  render  their  future 
secure. 

But  during  the  efforts  which  this  required,  and  in  conse- 
quence of  the  consuming  agony  of  mind  through  which  she  had 
passed,  she  soon  became  convinced,  beyond  a  doubt,  that  she 
would  not  long  be  able  to  devote  herself  to  her  peculiar  calling, 
and  that  her  career  would  be  cut  short. 

There  is  a  malady  which  seizes  upon  women  much  more  fre- 
quently than  men,  and  especially  on  those  who  have  been 
stricken  by  some  sudden  sorrow,  or  who  have  been,  as  it  is 
said,  worn  out  by  a  painfully  laborious  life.  As  an  insidious 
parasite  of  the  tropics  seizes  upon  the  gloi'ious  Ceiba-tree,  fixes 
itself  in  its  soft  bark,  and  grows,  serpent-like,  twining  itself 
roimd  its  stem  and  branches,  sucking  up  its  sap,  until  it  lives 
upon  a — corpse,  such  is  this  malady ;  it  commonly  first  seizes 
upon  those  parts  of  the  body  which  are  most  beautiful  and 
tender ;  those  out  of  which  the  fountains  of  life  well  forth,  and 
thence  extends  its  secret  poison  to  the  whole  system. 

The  name  of  this  malady  is  not  mentioned  without  a  shudder, 
because  it  is  known  to  belong  to  the  incurable ;  and  that  severe 
suffering  accompanies  it. 

Hertha  was  aware  of  her  condition ;  and  knowing  it  to  be 
her  duty  to  live  and  to  work  for  her  sisters,  and  for  the  great 
object  of  her  life's  endeavors,  besides  the  natural  horror  which 
she  had  oi*  the  disease  whose  symjDtoms  she  believed  she  recog- 
nised in  herself,  she  consulted  Dr.  Hedermann. 

He  called  her  malady  a  "  heart-complaint,"  but  warned  her 
of  its  consequences,  and  prescribed  what  physicians  always 
prescribe,  in  such  cases,  rest  from  fatiguing  labor ;  as  well  as 
bathing  and  the  water-cure.  Hertha  thanked  him;  besought 
him  not  to  betray  her  confidence  on  this  subject ;  and  he  left 
her  without  any  idea  that  what  he  had  prescribed  for  her,  was 
precisely  that  which  her  necessities  prevented  her  making  use 
of.  But  she  Avould  not  allow  such  a  confession  to  pass  her  pale 
lips. 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  375 

She  told  no  one ;  she  allowed  no  one  to  have  an  idea  of  the 
truth  as  regarded  herself.  With  a  calm,  steady  mien  she 
arose,  and  summoned  all  her  powers  to  fulfil  the  duties  of  each 
j^assing  day,  and  left  the  future  in  the  hand  of  God,  in  whose 
fatherly  guidance  she  had  firm  trust — to  whose  mspiration  she 
incessantly  listened.  With  ever  watchful  and  warm  kindness, 
and  with  eloquent  lips,  she  stood  among  the  young  who 
gathered  around  her;  she  revived  all  who  came  to  her  for 
counsel  or  consolation  with  frankness  and  sympathy,  and  none 
had  any  idea  of  the  Nidhogg  which  gnawed  at  the  root  of  her 
tree  of  life.  Sometimes  a  deep  sigh  Avould  force  itself  from  her 
breast,  which  many  fancied  when  they  heard  it  to  be  a  sound 
of  lamentation,  but  the  sigh  and  the  lamentation  were  so  speed- 
ily rej)ressed,  as  to  be  scarcely  observable.  She  went  out  com- 
monly for  an  hour  each  day,  accompanied  by  one  of  her  pupils, 
for  the  benefit  of  fresh  air.  Sometimes  it  happened,  on  these 
occasions,  that  she  would  suddenly  pause,  and  stand  for  a 
moment  perfectly  silent.  This  was  when  she  felt  a  faintnes? 
come  on.  Afterwards  she  would  smile  kindly  and  resume  hei 
walk  and  her  conversation.  Before  long,  however,  the  pro 
gress  of  the  destroyer  became  evident  to  all  in  the  emaciated 
form,  and  she  was  no  longer  able  to  conceal  from  those  who 
loved  her,  that  the  angel  of  Death  was  at  her  heart. 


3T6  THE   FOUR  SISTERS. 


ALL-HALLOWS'-REST 

Is  the  term  applied,  in  some  of  the  Swedish  provinces,  to  a 
season  which  occurs  generally  at  the  commencement  of  No- 
vember, with  All-Hallows'  Eve.  It  may  be,  a  few  days,  or 
perhaps  a  week  at  most,  of  perfectly,  almost  wonderfiilly  calm 
weather,  which  succeeds  the  October  storms.  The  lakes  lie, 
like  dark  agate,  at  the  feet  of  the  mossy  primeval  mountains, 
reflecting  them  and  the  dark  green  forests,  and  every  object, 
however  minute,  on  their  shores,  in  their  calm,  mirror-Hke 
surface,  with  the  most  perfect  fidelity.  Not  a  breath  of  air 
stirs ;  not  a  bird  twitters ;  heaven  is  veiled,  everything  seems 
to  rest  and  wait — the  whole  of  Nature  expresses  a  grand 
resignation,  as  it  prepares  itself  to  meet  its  fate,  to  enter  its 
winterly  grave.  Still  ascends,  fresh  and  soft,  the  fragrance  of 
earth,  from  the  forests  and  the  leaf-clad  primeval  mountains ; 
but  yet  a  Httle  time,  and.it  reposes  stiff  and  cold  beneath  the 
white,  enveloping  shroud.  It  knows  it,  and  waits  in — "  the 
calm  of  All-hallows." 

We  may  perceive  something  resembling  this  calm,  during 
the  latter  periods  of  Hertha's  history ;  yet,  at  the  same  time, 
something  more.  Man,  the  lord  of  nature,  does  not,  hke 
nature,  yield  to  fate  only  in  passive  submission  ;  he  meets  it, 
he  bows  himself  before  it,  in  the  living  consciousness  of  the 
purpose  of  his  change,  and  even  at  the  approach  of  winter, 
prepares  himself  for  the  Hfe  of  the  new  spring.  It  is  his 
glorious  privilege.  This  was  deeply  acknowledged  by  Hertha ; 
and  it  gave  a  fresh  trait  of  nobihty  to  her  not  ordinary 
exterior,  and  endowed  her  ^vith  a  new  power  over  the  minds 
of  others.  And  if  her  calmness  was  frequently  disturbed,  and 
dark  shadows  at  times  fell  over  her  peace,  yet  the  fault  of  this 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  37*7 

lay  less  in  herself  than  in  the  world  with  which  her  honest  soul 
had  still  to  combat. 

They  who  saw  her  during  the  few  months  which  preceded 
her  decease,  were  for  the  most  part  greatly  struck  by  her  ap- 
pearance and  manners.  One  of  these  thus  describes  a  visit 
paid  to  her. 

"  I  waited  alone  for  a  short  time  in  the  Iduna-hall,  Avhilst  I 
was  announced,  and  occupied  myself  in  contemplating  its 
beautiful  statues  and  blossoming  plants.  I  had  not  seen 
Hertha  for  many  years,  not  since  the  time  Avhen  I  had  con- 
sidered her  a  proud  and  somewhat  disagreeable  girl,  evidently 
out  of  harmony  with  herself  and  the  world. 

"  Presently  the  door  of  the  hall  opened,  and  a  noble  figure, 
but  wasted  with  early  sickness,  entered,  supported  on  a  staff 
with  a  white  ivory  head;  in  this  form  I  had  difficulty  in 
recognising  the  Hertha  of  former  years.  The  ambitious  and 
sometimes  conteraiDtuous  character  of  her  expression,  whieli 
had  formerly  rather  offended  my  self-love,  was  no  longer 
observable.  There  was  something  perfectly  frank  and  friendly 
in  the  smile  with  which  she  advanced  to  meet  me.  She 
seemed  to  be  above  all  the  petty  feelings  and  thoughts  of  this 
world.  It  was  in  the  beaming  eyes  and  the  noble,  arched 
forehead,  that  I  was  best  able  to  recognise  the  former  Hertha, 
yet  these  now  bore  an  expression  of  qiiiet  power  and  serenity 
which  formerly  was  foreign  to  them.  Every  feature,  every 
line  of  her  countenance  seemed  to  me  to  speak  of  a  rich 
inward  history.  The  strongly  developed  nostrils  had  no  longer 
their  someAvhat  arrogant  expression,  and  all  bitterness  seemed 
changed  to  quiet  melancholy.  But  above  all  this,  and  over 
the  whole  countenance,  beamed  those  splendid  eyes  with  their 
transfiguring  light.  The  hair  which  was  put  back  from  the 
temples  allowed  their  singularly  beautiful  outline  to  be  seen, 
whilst  a  simple  white,  cambric  kercliief,  or  veil,  fell  softly, 
shadowing  as  it  were  the  head,  and  around  the  sunken  cheeks. 
Hertha,  as  she  now  is,  might  serve  as  a  model  for  a  Sibyl,  or 
for  the  Prophetess  Vala,  if  the  expression  of  patient  power  and 
of  a  deep   maternal  tenderness  did   not  render  her  rather 


BIS  THE   FOUR   SISTERS, 

the  type  of  the  Maccabean  woman,  '  the  mother  of  the 
Martyrs.' 

"  I  was  so  affected  by  the  sight  of  this  noble  ruin,  of  the 
formerly  stately  woman,  that  I  could  scarcely  restrain  my 
tears.  But  she  spoke  so  calmly  and  kindly  to  me  that  I  soon 
became  calmer,  and  hstened  with  indescribable  pleasure  to  her 
conversation,  rich  as  it  was  in  life's  experience,  and  so  filled 
with  great  thoughts  for  the  future.  She  is  severe  in  her 
demands  from  our  sex,  precisely  because  she  estimates  its 
vocation  so  highly.  She  spoke  of  her  pupils  with  great  ten- 
iemess,  and  in  particular  praised  most  highly  two  young 
auder-teachers  in  the  school.  The  old  bitter  expression,  both 
in  voice  and  countenance,  returned,  however,  when  she  spoke 
of  the  false  views  which  parents  take  with  regard  to  their 
daughters'  education,  and  of  the  impediments  which  our  laws 
place  in  the  way  of  the  development  of  young  women.  But 
the  bitterness  again  disappeared  before  the  trust  and  hope  in 
the  future. 

"  She  was  unable  to  receive  my  daughters  into  her  school, 
because  she  foresaw  that  she  inust  shortly  discontinue  it,  on 
account  of  her  health,  which  ^t11  not  permit  her  much  longer 
to  give  the  necessary  attention  to  it.  This  subject  however 
she  touched  but  lightly.  I  have  been  told  that  the  physicians 
consider  it  improbable  that  she  will  live  over  the  year,  and  I 
left  her  with  the  sorrowful  feeling  that  I  should  see  and  hear 
her  no  more.  I  shall  never  forget  the  light  in  her  glance,  nor 
the  affection  which  I  saw  beam  from  the  eyes  of  the  young, 
as  I  accompanied  her  into  the  school-room.  All  seemed  to 
know  that  she  soon  would  be  taken  from  them,  and  it  was 
plain  to  see,  both  fi-om  her  looks  and  their  eyes,  how  painful 
this  parting  would  be." 

In  the  meantime,  what  was  the  state  of  that  soul  whose 
silent  conflict  and  innermost  longing  no  one  knew  but  God 
and  the  friend  who  was  no  longer  on  earth  ?  We  will  obtain 
our  answer  fi-om  entries  in  her  diary. 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  3T9 


SELECTIONS  FROM  HERTHA'S  DIARY. 

"It  is  now  more  than  three  years  since  I  wrote  anything 
about  myself.  After  Yngve's  departure,  I  lost,  in  some 
respects,  interest  in  myself,  and  my  time  and  thoughts  were 
occupied  in  working  to  live.  Now  again  I  write  in  order  to 
employ  myself,  for  I  have  now  leisure.  Upon  the  cliffs  of 
Marstrand,  with  the  great  sea  roaring  around  me,  I  enjoy  a 
little  season  of  rest,  for  the  first  time  during  many  years.  How 
beautiful,  how  delightful  it  is,  for  a  little  while  to  have  nothing 
more  to  do  than  the  flowers  and  the  trees ;  to  bathe  in  the 
sunsliine  and  be  caressed  by  the  winds.  Yet  I  should  not 
have  come  hither  on  my  own  account,  because  the  soft  air  of 
"  the  Madeira  of  Sweden"  cannot  benefit  me,  even  if  it  can  do 
me  any  good,  but  my  sister  Maria  requires  sea-bathing ;  her 
white  hjjs  and  cheeks  attest  sufiiciently  that  she  sufiTers  from 
the  disease  so  common  to  yo^^ng  girls  whose  employment  is 
sedentary,  and  who  are  devoted  to  teaching.  Ah !  this  life 
and  labor  is  not  proper  for  her,  because  she  does  not  like  it ; 
but  in  what  other  way,  excepting  this,  can  she  earn  her  living  ? 
I  look  around  for  her,  but  I  can  see  nothing.  She  was  not 
formed  to  struggle  with  poverty  and  want.  Martha  can  go 
through  this  conflict  much  better.  But  will  not  the  occupa- 
tion which  alone  oflers  to  her,  that  of  housekeeper,  drag  do-\vn 
her  upward-striving  mind,  and  chain  it  to  the  petty,  to  the 
common,  drag  down  her  soul  ?     And  what  is  her  future  ? 

"  Sweden !  thou  brmgest  up  thy  young  daughters  too  much 
in  the  spirit  of  the  step-mother,  and  this  will  be  avenged  upon 
thy  sons  and  daughters  to  the  third  and  fourtli  generation. 

'■'-  Aiigust  \st.  I  accompHsh  this  day  my  forty-first  year. 
But  I  feel  myself  still  young.    I  fancy  I  could  now  first  right- 


380  TUE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

ly  begin  to  live  for  others,  if  only  I  had  the  time.  Fresh  feel- 
mgs,  new  thoughts,  come  up  with  tlie  fresh  breezes  from  the 
sea ;  and  views  open  vast  as  infinite  space.  Could  I  develope 
— could  I  impart  all  that  dawns  within  me  ;  but  it  cannot  be 
on  earth  ;  for  I  must  shortly  die.  And  I  do  not  wish  to  hve 
when  I  can  no  longer  work.  I  wish  not  as  a  profitless  burden 
to  consume  the  little  that  I  may  have  to  leave  to  my  sisters, 
my  beloved  care-takers.  Maria  is  benefited  by  the  sea-bath-, 
ing,  the  fresh  country-life,  and  I  am  also  able  to  go  out  Avith 
her  in  boat-excursions  among  the  rocks. 

"  How  fresh,  and  at  the  same  time  pecuharly  Swedish,  is  the 
character  of  this  scenery.  The  stranger  sees  only,  in  the  first 
instance,  naked  grey  cliffs,  in  the  midst  of  the  roaring  waves ; 
everywhere  rocky  islands  and  reefs.  He  approaches  them, 
and  as  if  by  magic,  they  open  themselves,  and  reveal  in  the 
bosom  of  the  rocks,  charming  groves  and  gardens,  in  which 
tall  white  lilies  bloom,  and  ivy  and  wild  honeysuckles  clamber 
around  the  mossy  granite.  The  vegetation  is  splendid  in  the 
little  valleys  at  the  foot  of  the  mountains ;  and  from  every 
point  the  visitor  gazes  out  over  the  restless  blue  sea,  and 
breathes  its  refreshing  but  soft  air.  Oh,  this  sea,  how  many 
thoughts  it  awakens — thoughts,  which  here  on  earth  I  shall 
never  be  able  to  work  out. 

"  August  Ith.  Is  it  the  disease  which  gains  ground,  or  is  it 
this  want  of  occupation  which  does  not  agree  with  me  ? — but 
my  sleeplessness  increases,  and  bitter  thoughts  and  feelings 
which  I  cannot  bear,  and  from  which  I  beseech  of  God  to  de- 
liver me,  have  again  awoke.  The  sight  of  my  sisters  even 
awakes  them,  for  what  is  to  become  of  them  when  I  am  gone  ? 
My  fatherly  friend.  Judge  Carlson,  is  also  gone.  My  sisters 
have  no  friend  in  the  world,  no  support.  Both  are  well  gifted, 
but  not  extraordinary  young  women  ;  they  are  extraordinary 
only  in  their  nobility  of  mind  and  their  self-sacrificing  love. 
How  different  Avould  have  been  their  lot  if  they  had  been  early 
accustomed  to  exercise  their  j)owers  in  a  noble  independence, 
in  an  atmosphere  of  freedom,  and  if  the  property  which — • 
silence !  silence,  bitter  thought,  silence. 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  381 

"  God — all  good  Father,  it  is  not  thee  whom  my  voice 
accuses,  for  thou  hast  declared  woman  to  be  free,  and  hast 
endowed  her  with  manifold  good  gifts,  and  hast  created  the 
earth  lich  and  beautiful.  The  bonds  which  thou  hast  laid 
upon  her  are  those  of  love,  are  those  of  His  spirit.  Oh,  how 
willingly  do  I  bow  myself  before  Thy  laws.  But  before 
human  statutes,  which  bind  what  Thou  hast  unbound,  which 
close  up  the  paths  which  Thou  hast  made  open,  which  limit, 
which  impoverish,  Vv'hich  mete  out  the  liberty  which  Thou  hast 
given  to  all,  which  clip  the  wings  of  conscience  and  power  that 
souls  may  be  kept  in  the  dust — before  these  statutes  I  will 
never  bow  myself  through  all  eternity,  no !  and  again  no  ! 
And  those  human  beings  Av^ho  maintain  them,  who  cry  peace 
where  there  is  no  peace — '  They  know  not  what  they  do ! 
Father,  take  this  bitterness  out  of  my  heart,  and  give  me  thy 
peace, before  I  die!' 

'■^August  10th.  The  venomous  serpent  will  not  give  way, 
and  this  is  a  sign  to  me  that  I  must  to  my  home,  that  I  may 
work,  work  for  others  while  it  is  yet  day.  This  will  give  mo 
peace.  I  shall  leave  Maria  in  charge  of  Ingeborg  Hedermann 
and  return  home  with  my  Martha. 

"  Iduna-hall,  S^eptemher.  Again  in  my  home  with  my 
accustomed  surroundings,  in  my  school,  and  I  am  better, 
calmer.  There  is,  in  the  activity  of  the  mind  for  others,  a 
powerful,  salutary  influence.  It  is  one  of  the  renovating  fruits 
of  Iduna. 

"  October.  But  I  shall  not  much  longer  be  able  to  work. 
I  must  give  up  my  week-day  school.  My  last  moments  must 
be  devoted  to  my  holiday-school.  Dr.  Hedermann  assures 
me  that  I  shall  not  live  over  the  winter.  Thank  God  !  I 
need  not  consume  the  little  that  I  would  leave  to  my  sisters 
by  a  long  illness. 

"I  had  yet  much  to  say  to  them  and  my  other  young 
friends,  but  I  must  now  concentrate  all  in  one  central  point, 
in  '  the  one  thing  necessary,'  foi  their  well-being,  their  life. 
I  will  impress  upon  their  hearts,  or  more  correctly  speaking 
their  consciences,  as  forcibly  as  I  myself  feel  it,  their  eternal 


382  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

destination,  their  responsibility  as  hutnmi  beings,  and  fellow- 
members  of  a  community,  erribracing  the  whole  human  race, 
to  unite  it  though  Christ  in  God,  with  his  heavenly  communi- 
ty of  free  sanctified  spiritual  beings.  And  therefore  be  thou 
alone  our  teacher  during  the  remaining  time,  thou  good 
Shepherd  of  Souls !  and  may  thy  greatness  and  those  yiews 
which  thou  openest  into  human  life,  nature,  eternity,  a  new 
heaven  and  a  new  earth,  obliterate  everything  small  and 
circumscribed,  and  separate  all  selfishness  from  the  young,  so 
that  they  may  understand  thy  exhortation  and  thy  love. 

"  Then  I  shall  die  contented.  Some  one  more  fortunate 
than  I  may  accompUsh  the  work  which  I  begun,  but  never- 
theless the  work  is  begun,  and  I  see  around  me  a  little  flock 
which  will  combat  for  a  better  future  in  the  name  of  truth 
and  conscience." 

In  the  spring  her  Diary  contains  the  following : — 

^^  Ajyril.  Dr.  Hedermann  has  deceived  both  himself  and 
me.  I  still  live,  and  may  perhaps  have  long  to  live  in  this 
state.  My  sisters  !  my  sisters  !  Is  it  I  who  shall  make  you 
poor  ?  I  shaU  be  obliged  to  sell  the  drawing-room  furniture 
and  my  silk  dresses  to  pay  the  rent.  I  would  so  gladly  have 
left  them,  Maria  and  Martha,  to  you  my  most  tender  nurses  ! 
Father !  let  me  not  live  to  become  a  burden  to  them,  to 
impoverish  them. 

"  1)1  May.  I  have  not  for  a  long  time  had  a  dream  worth 
relating.  But  my  last  night's  dream  was  beautiful.  I  yet 
once  more  saw  the  three  Nornor,  the  stern,  motherly  three, 
whom  I  had  often  before  beheld  in  my  dreams ;  they  appeared 
to  come  forth  out  of  a  gloomy  forest,  and  beckoned  me 
ouAvard,  as  they  again  withdrew  within  its  shadow.  I  obeyed 
their  call,  but  not  ^vithout  a  shudder,  for  the  forest  was  very 
dark,  and  a  cold  wind  struck  xipon  my  breast.  But  when  I 
had  entered,  it  opened  its  long  columnar  aisles,  and  the  lofty 
pine-tree  stems  gave  forth  a  delicious  fragrance.  In  the  depth 
of  the  temple  of  nature  I  saw,  not  the  Nornor,  but  two  figures 
who  seemed  like  shadows ;  but  they  advanced  towards  me, 
and  evei-"  as  they  came  nearer,  they  assumed  distinct  form, 


THE   FOUR  SISTERS.  383 

color,  and  radiant  beauty.  I  recognised  them.  They  were 
Ahna  and  Yngve  ;  they  siniled  and  beckoned,  and — I  awoke 
with  a  throbbing  heart,  and  Avith  joy  I  perceived  the  signiti- 
cance  of  the  dream. 

"  August.  My  Iduna,  all  my  beloved  statues,  ray  library, 
my  pictures  are — sold  to  a  rich  man,  who  "vvill  convert  them 
into  ornaments  for  his  viUa.  I  have  been  compelled  to  sell 
them,  that  I  may  not  lessen  the  small,  necessary  capital  which 
I  have  set  aside  for  my  sisters.  I  endeavor  to  bear  it  with 
indifference,  but  it  wrings  my  heart.  Had  I  been  able  to 
retain  my  property,  or  had  I  lived  long  enough,  I  would  have 
instituted  in  the  Iduna-hall  an  Industrial  School  for  girls  and 
boys,  and  placed  my  clever  Martha  at  its  head,  but — this  plan 
of  the  future  must  be  buried  hke  many  another.  Well, 
well !  So  must  it  be,  '  Naked  was  I  born  into  the  world, 
and  naked  must  I  return  out  of  it !'  But  yet  for  one  more 
evening  before  the  Iduna-hall  is  empty  and  desolate  will  I  see 
my  young  sisters  around  me,  the  children  of  my  soul,  will 
talk  with  them — yet  once  more — for  the  last  time." 


He  who  a  couple  of  weeks  later  had  seen  the  festive  as- 
sembly in  the  Iduna-hall,  one  beautiful  September  afternoon, 
would  not  have  had  a  presentiment  that  the  silent,  sorrowful 
guest,  whose  image  the  Egyptians  had  ever  pi-esent  at  their 
festive  entertainment  as  a  "  metnento  mori^'^  Death,  also  was 
present  on  this  occasion,  was  here  the  secret  guest,  so  beauti- 
ful was  the  guise  iinder  which  he  was  concealed  ;  so  bright,  so 
gay  seemed  the  picture  of  life  which  was  here  lit  up  by  the 
kindly  beams  of  a  bright  autumn  sun.  There  in  its  liglit 
might  be  seen  a  company  of  festally  attired  young  girls,  all  in 
simple  white,  all  with  real  flowers  in  their  hair,  and  in  the 
midst  of  this  group  of  young,  graceful  creatures — many  of 
whom  were  beautiful,  whilst  the  countenances  of  all  beamed 
at  this  moment  "snth  an  inward  light  which  made  all  seem 
lonely — sate  in  her  arm-chair,  a  tall  and  noble  female  figure, 


384  THE  FOUR  SISTERS. 

she  also  attired  in  white,  and  one  hand  grasping  a  staff  with 
a  white  ivory  head,  on  which  she  supported  herself,  as  with 
clear,  beaming  glances,  and  an  expression  of  unspeakable 
motherly  kindness,  she  looked  around  her  upon  the  young 
girls,  and  spoke  to  them.  True,  her  countenance  was  ema- 
ciated, and  as  it  were  furrowed  by  suffering,  but  something 
was  yet  there  greater  than  suffering,  something  which  pre- 
vailed above  its  traces  with  a  wonderful  touch  and  daybreak, 
as  it  were,  of  beauty,  and  gave  to  it  a  light,  a  life,  a  transfigu- 
ration such  as  no  artist,  excepting  the  soul,  can  conjure  up  in 
the  human  countenance.  She  still  carried  her  head  nobly,  and 
the  expression  of  motherly  love  was  blended  in  her  eye  with 
that  of  the  inspired  teacher.  Those  young  girls  profoundly 
recognised  it.  Delighted  and  humble,  full  of  devoted  affec- 
tion, they  clung  around  her,  and  kissed  her  hands  and  her 
dress,  and  although  she  did  not  usually  like  or  allow  of  caress- 
es, she  permitted  them  on  this  occasion. 

She  did  not  wish  the  young  to  have  any  idea  that  the 
purpoi't  of  this  festival  was  that  of  leave-taking,  but  there  was 
a  something  about  it  which  seemed  to  tell  them  its  object, 
and  which  gave  to  their  minds  a  profound  and  solemn  impres- 
sion. Two  of  these  young  girls  belonged  to  the  highest  class 
of  society,  other  two  were  daughters  of  handicraft-workers ; 
the  greater  number  belonged  to  the  middle  class ;  tliey  were 
all  pupils  of -the  Holiday  School.  At  the  feet  of  Iduna  stood 
a  table  covered  with  flowers,  tastefully  arranged  in  vases  of 
the  antique  form,  and  Avith  a  rich  j^rofusion  of  the  fruits  of 
the  season.  Hertha  was  wheeled  forward  in  her  arm-chair 
(the  young  girls  were  all  emulous  of  this  service)  to  the  table ; 
and  here  she  partook  of  a  meal  with  her  young  discijiles,  after 
having,  in  the  name  of  all,  thanked  the  giver  of  all  good  gifts, 
for  these  His  gifts.  Hertha  had  not  for  a  long  time  felt  her- 
self so  free  from  pain,  or  so  generally  strong.  The  animation  of 
the  moment  restored  color  to  her  cheeks ;  her  young  pupils 
gazed  at  her  with  joy,  and  believed  that  she  would  be  re- 
stored to  life  ;  that  she  would  be  regiven  to  them,  and  tears 
of  joy  glistened  in  many  eyes.      Whilst  she,  as  hostess,  distri- 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  385 

buted  "U'lth  liberal  hand  the  most  beautiful  of  the  fruits  to  her 
young  fi'iends,  she  turned  the  conversation  to  the  ciiltivation 
of  fruit,  to  the  vocation  of  man  as  the  ennobler  of  nature,  and 
as  usual  she  endeavored  to  awaken  the  thoughts  of  the  young 
to  that  portion  of  the  labor  which  belonged  especially  to 
woman,  inducing  them  to  express  their  own  sentiments  on 
this  subject,  and,  as  ever,  giving  her  own  guiding,  living 
thoughts  on  the  subject.  She  referred  to  the  womanly  influ- 
ence partly  by  means  of  a  developed  sense  of  beauty,  partly 
also,  practical,  by  means  of  garden-cultivation.  She  referred 
to  the  beautiful  myth  of  Iduna  and  her  apples,  as  a  symbol 
of  woman's  relationship  to  nature  and  mankind.  The  Garden 
of  Eden  gleamed  forth,  as  it  were,  in  her  representation  of 
the  earthly  garden. 

Olof  E.,  the  only  young  man  present  at  the  festival,  read, 
according  to  Hertha's  programme,  a  short  treatise  on  "  Man 
as  the  ennobler  of  nature."  This  yoimg  man  took  a  clear  view 
of  his  subject,  for  which  he  had  a  profound  feeling,  and  his 
thoughts  accorded  in  every  resjDect  with  Hertha's.  Never- 
theless he  was  not  now  listened  to  with  the  attention  which 
be  deserved.  The  young  people,  it  was  evident,  would,  at 
this  moment,  rather  listen  to  Heitha  alone. 

When  the  cheerful  meal  was  ended,  she  again  collected  them 
around  her,  as  was  her  custom  in  the  hours  of  conversation,  and 
requested  theii*  attention  to  what  she  had  to  say  to  them ;  and 
no  one  can  describe  the  profound  attention  with  which  their 
glances,  their  souls  hung,  as  it  were,  on  the  lips  of  their  be- 
loved instructress,  whom  they  would  now  hear  for  the  Inst 
time.  The  feeble  and  sometimes  broken  voice,  the  superna- 
tural glance  of  her  eye,  all  told  them  this. 

For  the  first  time  she  now  related  to  them  portions  of  her 
own  life's  history ;  avoiding  the  mere  outward,  but  si^eaking 
of  the  inner ;  of  her  soul's  conflict,  yearning,  seeking,  and 
despair-  until  her  meeting  with  Yngve.  She  spoke  of  him — • 
oh !  with  what  expression,  with  what  tones  she  spoke  of  him, 
of  how  by  his  integrity,  his  goodness,  his  profound  knowledge, 
he  gave  peace  and  light  to  her  soul,  and  reconciled  her  to  life. 
24 


386  THE    FOUR   SISTERS, 

She  then  spoke  of  the  covenant  into  wliich  they  had  entered 
on  behalf  of  those  whose  suffermgs  and  desires  she  understood 
better  than  most,  because  she  had  herself  experienced  them  ; 
she  spoke  of  the  plans  which  they  had  laid  for  its  accomplish- 
ment. 

"  It  became  my  lot,"  continued  Hertha,  "  to  carry  out 
alone  that  which  we  had  planned  together,  and  therefore  it 
has  been  imperfectly  and  only  partially  done.  Ah  !  I  am  my- 
self only  a  fragment  of  the  human  behig,  of  the  teacher  which 

I  might  have  been  for  you  if but  the  state  of  tutelage  ui 

which  my  youth  was  held,  my  long  twilight,  and  still  later 
my  grief  for  the  loss  of  my  departed  friend,  have  diminished 
my  power,  have  bowed  me  so  early.  Love  for  you,  my 
children,  has  supported  me ;  still  I  have  not  been  to  you  what 
I  might  have  been,  what  I  wished  to  be.  Let  your  youthful 
powers,  your  earnest  wishes,  compensate  for  my  deficiencies, 
and  attend  at  this  moment  to  my  words  as  to  those  of  a  dying 
friend!  Enter  resolutely  into  God's  service,  as  laborers  in 
his  vmeyard ;  this  will  give  you  strength  to  bear  much,  to 
overcome  much,  to  give  up  much,  and  yet  never  to  feel  your- 
selves forsaken  or  poor.  Gifts  are  manifold,  and  employments 
in  this  world  are  manifold,  but  '  the  Lord  is  One,'  as  the 
Apostle  says,  and  in  all  these  we  can  serve  the  one.  The 
world  is  great ;  God  is  greater  ;  and  all  that  is  in  the  Avorld  is 
his,  and  created  for  his  glory.  The  sun  in  the  firmament  and 
the  least  flower  in  the  meadow  aHke  testify  of  Him.  Thus 
must  you  yoimg  women,  also,  testify  of  Him,  but  m  a  higher 
significance.  Do  you  know  why  I  invited  you  this  day  to 
come  to  me,  attired  as  for  a  festival  ?  It  is  because  I  am 
pleased  to  see  you  so,  and  that  I  may  impress  it  uj^on  your 
hearts,  to  stand  forth,  with  the  best  and  the  most  beautiful 
which  you  have  received  from  God,  as  witnesses  of  Him  and 
his  truth.  Dedicate  all  those  gifts,  both  outward  and  inward, 
which  commonly  belong  to  youth,  and  which  so  often  minister 
to  vanity,  dedicate  them  to  Him,  the  Supreme !  Become  his 
servants  in  beauty  and  in  truth.  Scorn  to  serve  anything 
lower.    Elevate,  ennoble,  the  meanest  object  of  earth  by  con- 


THE   FOUR    SISTERS.  387 

secrating  it  to  liis  service.  Fear  not,  if  it  be  necessary,  to 
stand  forth  as  the  witnesses  to  his  truth  in  the  world  ;  but  do 
it  nobly  as  beings  guided  by  his  inspiration,  God  has  i)er- 
mitted  his  latest  work  on  earth  to  retain — even  after  the  fall — 
a  perpetual  memory  of  her  first  love  and  yearning  towards 
Him  and  his  revelation.  Guard  this  yearning  towards  Him  as 
your  most  sacred  inheritance  ;  and  hsten  to  God's  voice  in  it ; — 
obey  its  promptings ;  let  not  the  sacred  fire  be  extinguished 
on  the  altar  of  your  hearts ;  otherwise  it  will  become  extin- 
guished in  the  communities  of  earth.  Let  it  burn  ever  more 
clearly,  ever  higher,  stronger  for  all  that  is  noble,  good,  right, 
true,  di\dne ;  then  will  it  penetrate,  warm,  and  elevate  all  the 
generations  of  the  earth. 

"  Show  yourselves,  both  by  word  and  deed,  by  the  whole 
of  your  conduct  in  fife,  worthy  of  the  freedom,  the  self-respon- 
sibility, which  you  have  a  right  to  demand  fi-om  the  laws  of 
your  country,  and — it  wiU  be  conceded  to  you  or  your  succes- 
sors. Force  conviction  on  all,  but  do  it  through  your  own 
wortliiness. 

"  Look  around  you  in  the  world  without  fear,  with  no  timid 
or  limited  glance,  and  then  ask,  '  What  is  it  that  God  requires 
of  me  ? '  Ask  honestly ;  and  according  to  the  answer  He  gives 
— that  do,  that  become.  But  ask,  like  Mary,  sitting  at  the 
feet  of  Christ.  Avoid  pride,  and  not  the  less,  fiilse  humility 
and  slavish  subjection  to  the  opinion  of  the  world.  Cultivate 
esteem  for  yourself,  as  a  witness  of  eternal  truth  on  earth. 
Oh,  young  women  !  yoitr  vocation  is  great,  your  future  glorious 
in  the  ser\dce  of  the  Most  Holy.  Devote  yourselves  to  this 
^nth  sacred  earnestness,  resolutely,  courageously,  humbly,  but 
steadfastly,  and — everything  else  will  be  given  you,  through 
Him.  You  may,  in  the  begmning,  encounter  ojjposition,  mis- 
trust, ridicule,  scorn,  and  hard  judgment  from  many  people, 
but  persevere  patiently ;  do  not  suffer  anything  or  any  one 
to  deprive  you  of  your  hope  in  the  future,  your  faith  in 
the  Redeemer !  They  Avill  conquer  and  you  with  tnem,  for 
yourself  and  for  numbers  ! — But  I  must  make  an  end  ; — I 
shall  soon  leave  you ;  God  calls  mo  hence !     Let  me  carry 


388  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

hence  with  me  the  hope  of  your  fideUty  to  your  hi<jhest  voca- 
tion, and — I  shall  die  contented,  because — I  shall  not  then 
have  lived  in  vain !  " 

She  ceased  to  speak.  The  fever-flush  crimsoned  her  cheeks, 
and  her  bright  eyes  glanced  with  solemn  earnestness  around 
her,  inquiringly  and  searchingly,  on  the  young  people  who 
surrounded  her.  They  all  arose  and  approached  her  ;  one  after 
the  other,  knelt  before  her,  and  laid  their  heads  on  her  knees. 
She  let  fall  her  staff,  and  with  both  her  feeble  hands  raised 
each  of  these  youthful  heads,  gazed  into  their  tearful  eyes,  and 
blessed  them  with  her  looks,  kissed  their  foreheads,  and  gave 
to  each  one  a  few  words  of  love  and  a  parting  gift. 

"  Farewell !  We  shall  meet  again !  "  were  the  last  words 
she  whispered,  as  she  finally  took  leave  of  them  by  a  glance 
and  wave  of  her  hand. 

After  this  evening  Hertha  admitted  no  one  to  her  privacy 
excepting  her  sisters,  her  young  friend  Olof  E.,  and  her  phy. 
sician,  so  great  were  her  sufferings.  She  passed  her  days  and 
nights  sitting  in  her  easy  chau*,  with  but  few  hours  of  sleep, 
and  almost  unable  to  take  food.  It  was  a  pleasure  to  her  to 
be  read  to,  in  particular  those  portions  of  the  Holy  Scriptures 
in  Avhich  large  views  of  the  word's  emancipation  were  enun- 
ciated. She  then  raised  her  head ;  her  eyes  were  again  bright 
as  of  old,  whilst  they  gazed,  as  they  had  so  often  done  before, 
into  the  distance,  beholding,  as  it  were,  some  great  and 
glorious  vision.  Her  intellect  remained  clear,  and  the  expres- 
sion of  her  countenance  retained  its  serenity,  excepting  in  those 
few  moments  when  it  was  darkened  by  suflering  or  some  bitter 
memory.  To  the  very  last  she  occupied  herself,  from  time  to 
time,  with  writmg ;  noting  down  various  things  which  she  was 
no  longer  able  to  impart  to  her  young  disciples  by  word  of 
mouth,  and  often  also  made  entries  in  her  Diary. 

A  few  days  before  her  death  she  wrote  as  follows : — 

"  Thank  God,  it  will  soon  be  all  over  with  me !  I  need  be  here 
no  longer  a  burden  to  my  friends.  In  the  other  state  I  may, 
perhaps,  watch  over  and  work  for  them  as  a  Guardian  Angel, 
They  who  circumscribe  our  private  history,  our  relationships 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS.  389 

of  friendship  merely  to  our  time  on  earth,  have  not  imdcrstood 
all  that  the  Gospel  can  teach  ns. 

"My  sight  becomes  dim;  my  hand  trembles; — but  my 
mind,  my  heart,  are  still  young !  Alma  !  Yngve !  I  come  to 
you  with  a  soul  full  of  love  and  athirst  for  knowledge,  that  I 
may  with  you,  or  through  you — if  I  am  but  worthy  of  it — 
behold  the  glory  of  God," 

Shortly  before  her  death  Hertha  again  wrote  in  her  Diary, 
as  if  to  dissipate  uneasy  and  disturbing  thoughts — 

"  Frequently  in  my  youth,  under  an  impression  of  my  own 
righteousness,  I  was  severe  and  unsparing  in  my  judgment  of 
others,  and  spoke  with  harshness  whatever  I  regarded  as  right 
and  true.  I  have  done  the  same  wuthin  these  last  days.  A 
distant  relative,  who  lost  his  jsroperty  through  my  father, 
wrote  to  me,  '  All  your  misfortunes  might  have  been  avoided 
if  you  had  in  time  compelled  your  father  to  render  you  an 
account  of  your  inherited  property,  and  had  availed  yourself 
of  the  means  which  our  Swedish  laws  provide  to  obtain  your 
liberty.  Then  you  might  have  married  Yngve,  he  would  have 
lived ;  you  would  not,  as  now,  have  killed  yourself  with  work, 
and  your  sisters  would  have  been  well  provided  for  or  esta- 
blished in  life.  Everything  would  then  have  been  different. 
Do  not  let  us  throw  the  blame  upon  laws  and  upon  circum- 
stances, of  that  which  is  the  consequence  of  our  own  indeci- 
sion or  fear  of  the  world's  judgment.' 

"  These  words  have  wounded  me  deeply.  Have  I  really 
been  the  cause  of  all  this  ? — have  I  erred  so  much  ?  Yngve, 
is  it  I  who  have  dug  thy  early  grave  ?  My  sisters,  is  it  I  who 
have  destroyed  your  future  ?  I  cannot  see.  I  cannot  clearly 
i;nderstand  things  now.  Disease  has  weakened  me.  The 
shadows  of  death  encompass  me.  Oh,  this  is  a  bitter  cup ! 
God  be  merciful  to  me !" 

Tlie  following  words,  without  date,  are  written  with  a 
steadier  hand,  but  in  much  larger  characters,  as  by  one  half- 
blind  : 

"  I  have  wished  to  do  right ;  I  have  obeyed  the  command 


390  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

of  God  and  my  own  conscience.  If  I  erred  in  so  doing,  if  in 
iullilling  one  duty  I  neglected  others,  then — the  fault  is  ray 
own.  I  could  not  do  otherwise,  and — I  have  been  the 
greatest  sufferer.  Before  God  I  stand  justified,  because  of 
my  honest  intentions,  but — 

"  My  country!  thou  whom  I  loved  so  much,  whom  I  wished 
to  serve  with  my  whole  soul  and  my  whole  strength,  but  who 
didst  lightly  esteem  my  soul  and  my  strength,  thou  whom  I 
nevertheless  bless  for  the  good  thou  gavest  me ;  towards 
whose  honorable  future  I  still  look  amid  the  shadows  of  death, 
to  thee  I  confide  my  motherless  ones.  Be  to  them  a  tenderer 
mother  tlian  thou  hast  been  to  me.  Give  to  them,  for  the  sake 
of  thine  own  future,  give  to  all  thy  daughters,  that  which  thou 
hast  denied  to  me ;  Freedom ;  a  Future ;  a  Home  for  the  Life 
of  the  Soul.  For  myself  I  desire  nothing  more.  My  pilgrim's 
staff  is  laid  down :  my  pilgrimage  is  ended ; 

I  lift  my  hands  confidingly 
Up  to  God'?  holy  hill  1 


THE   FOUR  SISTERS.  391 


KUNGSKOPING  PEOPLE. 

Never  had  any  person's  illness  and  last  moments  caused 
so  universal  an  interest  and  sympathy  throughout  the  whole 
social  circles  of  Kungskoping,  as  those  of  Hertha.  But 
there  were  very  few  of  the  better  families  of  the  town  of 
which  a  daughter  or  other  relative  had  not  been  educated  at 
her  school,  and  who  had  not  to  thank  her  for  having  given 
them  a  higher  and  more  beautiful  conception  of  Ufe. 

"When  she  was  gone,  they  sung  her  praises  in  chorus,  and 
fine  poems,  warm  from  the  inspiration  of  the  heart,  were 
composed  in  her  honor.  During  her  long  sickness  all  kinds 
of  things  were  sent  to  her  which  it  was  thought  would  please 
or  comfort  her,  nor  would  greater  gifts  have  been  withheld  if 
Hertha  by  one  word  would  have  allowed  it.  But  her  inborn 
pride  forbade  this.  She  only  besought  from  her  nearest 
friends  that  they  would  be  kind  to  her  sisters  when  she  was 
dead.  And  was  it  piety  towards  her  memory,  or  the  effect 
of  that  heavenly  guardianship,  which  Hertha  sometimes 
pleased  herself  "with  the  idea  of  being  able  to  afford  her 
sisters,  when  she  was  gone,  but  certain  it  is  that  people  were 
kind  to  them,  and  that  a  propitious  star  seemed  to  rule  theu- 

lives.     Already  before  Hertba's  death  had  Olof  E and 

Hertha's  sister,  Maria,  become  siacerely  and  devotedly 
attached  to  each  other,  and  now  when  we  take  our  leave  of 

them,  we  see  Olof  E promoted  to  a  situation  which 

enables  him  to  offer  his  hand  and  a  safe  position  in  life  to  his 
gentle  Maria.  Martha,  it  is  said,  is  nominated  to  the  super- 
intendence of  an  Industrial  School,  which  some  of  the  Kungs- 
koping people  have   uistitutcd   in  memory  of   Hertha,   for 


392  THE   FOUR   SISTERS. 

young  girls,  and  for  which  they  repurchased  the  statues 
Avhich  she  liad  destined  for  it.  The  spirit  of  life  and  of  love 
for  a  higher  development,  Avhich  she  had  awoke,  survived  her, 
and  still  lives  in  the  town. 

Hence  it  is  that  the  good  pastor's  wife  lived  to  see  the 
fulfilment  of  her  wishes  for  the  Infint-school.  Who  became 
the  teacher  after  Amalia  left  the  town  to  join  her  husband  at 
some  other  place,  we  know  not.  After  Marie  Dufva's  mar- 
riage, the  pastor  and  his  wife  obtained  a  new  daughter  for 
their  house,  and  they  are  yet  wishing  for  another.  The  good 
couple  have  still  room  in  their  house  and  room  in  their 
hearts. 

Mimmi  Svanberg  still  continued  her  manifold  activity  as 
"  town  councillor  "  in  the  town,  even  after  she  was  married  to 
a  wealthy  man  of  the  place.  Her  protegee,  the  bright-eyed, 
but  lame  little  singer,  Mma,  is  appointed  singing-mistress  in 
the  Infant-school,  and  divides,  her  innocent  cheerful  Ufe  be- 
tween this  and  her  noAV  much  happier  mother's  home  (one  of 
the  good  Avorks  of  the  Family  Union),  and  never,  on  the  face 
of  the  earth,  did  a  lame  being  more  resemble  a  singmg-bird,  in 
Ufe  and  disposition. 

Mrs.  Tnpplander  continues  to  give  coffee-parties;  to  contend 
against  the  principles  of  this  age  "  Avithout  rule  or  morality," 
and  bitterly  complains  that  Miss  Krusbjorn  is  more  and  more 
infected  by  them,  and  actually  defends  them. 

Professor  Methodius  still  has  not  brought  his  system  into 
operation,  nor  has  Protocol-secretary  ISr.B.  written  his  book 
against  Ladies'  Societies.  He  has,  however,  done  muoh 
better  ;  he  has  become  a  member  of  a  private  lady's  society — 
lis  is  married  to  Mimmi  Svanberg. 

Mrs.  Uggla,  Avho  can  no  longer  sigh  over  the  seven  Miss 
Dufvas,  nor  her  own  daughter  Ingeborg's  many  daughters, 
inasmuch  as  she  has  only  one  and  two  sons,  nor  yet  sigh  over 
her  daughter's  fate,  has  noAV  taken  it  upon  herself  to  sigh  over 
the  five  Miss  Hoppenstedts  and  the  scA^en  Miss  Ugglas  (her 
relations)  and  their  uncertain  prospects. 

In  conclusion,  we  will  speak  of  tAVO  i^ersons  i:i  whom  Hertha 


THE   FOUR   SISTERS,  393 

had  great  interest,  and  with  whom  she  was  in  constant  inter- 
course while  she  lived,  though  we  have  but  Uttle  to  say  of  thcni. 

Rudolph — "  poor  Rudolph,"  as  Hertha  used  to  call  him, 
continued  lais  pedestrian  pilgrimage  for  several  years.  Every 
now  and  then  Hertha  received  a  letter  from  him  in  which  wa* 
a  small  sum  of  money  "  for  the  sufferers  by  the  fire."  Aftci 
Hertha's  death  all  mtelligence  of  him  ceased,  and  it  is  probable 
that  he  did  not  long  survive  her.  By  his  letters  it  was  evident 
that  he  found  neither  rest  nor  repose  on  earth,  but  was 
continually  pursued  by  the  memory  of  the  terrible  night  of  the 
fire,  as  well  as  by  a  voice  which  seemed  to  call  to  him  "  hence  ! 
hence  !"  But  he  also  heard  another  voice  which  caused  him 
to  raise  his  head  and  his  eyes  upwards,  and  Avhich  repeated, 
"  thither  !  thither !"  A  voice  which  whispered  of  a  God 
greater  than  our  own  heart,  one  who  knows  all  things  and 
with  whom  there  is  much  forgiveness.  And  as  there  are 
human  comets  which  in  the  course  of  their  eccentric  career 
are  seen  for  a  little  time  above  our  horizon  and  then  never 
more  return,  but  may  be  attracted  by  other  planetary  systems, 
and  in  their  orbit  find  order  and  rest,  so  are  there  also  among 
mankind  nebulosities  which  never  during  their  earthly  lifetime 
are  able  to  fashion  themselves  to  a  decided  nucleus ;  and  even 
for  these  we  look  confidingly  to  Him  who  can  and  will 
perfect  all  His  work.  Pie  has  placed  the  one  human  being  as 
a  sun  to  the  other,  and  thus  we  see  Rudolph,  the  poor  "  son 
of  the  twilight,"  through  his  connexion  with  Hertha,  advancing 
on  his  way  to  light  and  life. 

Eva  Dufva  lived,  Egeria-like,  concealed  in  the  sacred  grove, 
Avliere  she,  through  infiuence,  rather  than  by  words,  imparted 
a  beautiful  doctrine  of  life's  wisdom  to  all  who  came  near  her. 
Long  may  she  blossom  at  the  Parsonage,  pretty  and  fresh  as 
a  rose,  and,  though  in  time  withering  and  growing  old  as 
other  roses,  still  will  she  retain  an  imperishable  fragrance  of 
youth  in  her  quiet,  active  life  as  daughter,  friend,  and  mother 
to  fatherless  httle  ones.  She  will  never  marry;  her  only 
passion  in  this  world  was  Hertha. 


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CHARLES    DICKENS'    WORKS. 

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3 

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volumes  are  sold  separately,  in  cloth,  price  One  Dollar  and  Fifty  cents  each. 

Price  of  a  sett,  in  Black  cloth, $19.00 

Full  Law  Library  style, 24.00 

Half  calf,  or  half  Turkey, 26.00 

Half  calf,  marbled  edges,  French, 2S.00 

Half  calf,  ancient  antique, 32.00 

Half  calf,  full  gilt  back.s, 32.00 

Full  calf,  ancient  antique, 40.00 

Full  calf,  gilt  edges,  backs, 'etc 40.00 

HUMOROUS    ILLUSTRATED    AVORKS. 

Two  vols.,  paper  cover.      Price  One 


Major   Jones'  Coiirtsliip   and 

Travels.  Beautifully  illustrated. 
One  volume,  cloth.     Price  $1.25. 

Major  Jones'  .Scenes  in  Geor- 
gia. Full  of  beautiful  illustrations. 
One  volume,  cloth.     Price  $1.25. 

Sam  Slick,  tlie  Clockniaker. 
By   Judge   Haliburton.      Illustrated. 


Dollar;  or  in  one  vol.,  cloth,  $1.25. 

Simon  Suggs'  Adventnres 
and  Travels.  Illustrated.  One 
volume,  cloth.     Price  $1.25. 

Hnmors  of  Falconbridge.  Two 
volumes,  paper  cover.  Price  One  Dol- 
lar ;  or  one  vol.,  cloth,  for  $1.25. 


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